FACING MY IMPOSTER SYNDROME

For over a year, I have flirted with the idea of becoming a relationship coach. And when I say “flirted,” I mean I absolutely decided I was going to do it during a body scrub at my bachelorette party and then I completely changed my mind a few months later. For someone who is historically decisive–for better and worse–it was strange for me to waver so much. At first, I took my indecision as a sign that I must not really want to do it. Normally I throw myself into new ventures with chutzpah and a “might as well try” attitude. But here I found myself unusually overwhelmed by the mechanics of it all. 

How would I bill people? Where would I find clients? Do I even know the log-in to change my website? 

I started to think of coaching as a last resort that I would only have to figure out if I was in dire financial need and forced to face my logistical fears. I tried to tuck it into the back of my mind–until the slightest opportunity arose for me to bring it up. I found myself soft-pitching  anyone who would listen about my idea of one day being a relationship coach and did they think that was a good idea and also do they think I would get any clients? How many clients exactly? And at what price point? 

In some ways it’s laughable that I have been so scared to take this next step for myself. As a writer and creator, I am no stranger to near constant rejection. I have had my hopes dashed and my dreams trampled on more times than I care to count (or can even remember). I’ve poured myself into pieces here that I am convinced will break through the noise and ascend me into the upper echelons of Substack success only to get less engagement than a normal week. Heck, I couldn’t even find a book store in New York to agree to host me for my latest book launch, which was a new form of rejection I didn’t know was possible after never having that problem with my first three publications. 

And yet, the possibility of presenting myself as a relationship coach and then not getting a single client felt like a mortification I couldn’t handle. So I avoided the possibility. I focused on all the ways it wouldn’t make sense for me to take this leap. For starters, I’m not a licensed therapist. I’m just some lady (with a master’s degree in psychology and two books about the intersection of mental health and romantic relationships). Sure, I’ve spent the last few years of my life thinking about and researching this stuff and people tell me I’ve helped them in their relationships all the time. But what about the people who will not hesitate to voice my own fears out loud? What about the Instagram comment that will accuse me of being unethical for charging clients without a license (even though I am not at all claiming to be licensed)? How will I fight against these possible accusations if I don’t even believe in myself enough to counter them? 

Seemed better to just not do it at all. 

Then, like most periods of growth in my experience, I had one conversation that changed my mind. This conversation didn’t reveal any new life-altering information to me. Sure, I was given some tangible tips about how to bill and what scheduling app to use. But more importantly, I was finally ready to hear and believe that I actually am qualified to do this. That even though I will be working outside of the traditional therapy model, my unique skill set, life experience and schooling means I do have the tools to help people find and build better relationships.

Or do I? 

That’s that pesky imposter syndrome again. Knowing it’s there doesn’t mean I can shut it out completely. But it does mean I can challenge its messaging (over and over again).

It is a tricky dance to have confidence in your own abilities while remaining humble enough to realize you don’t know everything. Author and organizational psychologist Adam Grant helped me reframe how to maintain stasis between these two parts of myself with a tweet he shared: 

“Humility isn't a sign of low self-esteem. It's a mark of high self-awareness. The goal isn't to deny your strengths. It's to see your strengths & shortcomings accurately. The first rule of improvement: recognize room for improvement. Narcissism feeds ego. Humility fuels growth.” 

I am going to do my best to hold onto this idea that I can both know what I am doing and not know everything I need to know yet. I can be qualified to charge people for my time and still learn how to be more effective in this new role by actually doing it. I don’t need to combat my imposter syndrome by blowing out my chest and declaring that I am actually the most qualified relationship coach that has ever lived. Instead, I will lead with the intention to build on the strengths I already have to become the most qualified relationship coach that has ever lived. 

Just kidding. 

Instead, I will lead with the intention to build on the strengths I already have to become an even better version of the person I am now so I can help more people and feel more comfortable doing it. I don’t know if this approach will be enough to fully kick the imposter syndrome out of my brain, but I have a feeling whatever dull hum remains won’t bother me that much. Especially once I am too busy with my new clients to listen. 

xoxo,

Allison 

P.S. If you’re interested in learning more about my new relationship coaching business, you can visit my website!

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