Happiness. It's relative.
Still true.
Impostor Syndrome. I used to have it and then I went to a special camp where the counselors made me sing all the verses of I Am Woman and cut marshmallows into shapes of accomplishments like wee puffy children on their way to Harvard, personalized license plates saying IMRCH and various types of men in suits kneeling in front of a thigh high boot. It’s not easy doing all this with marshmallows. Hence, the special camp.
I lie. I never had Impostor Syndrome. For those unfamiliar, Impostor Syndrome is when someone, usually a woman, thinks that their success is a fluke and not a reflection of their actual capabilities. It was just by way of luck or happenstance that they managed to run a million dollar company. An accident. So the Impostor Syndrome victim has the burden of dressing up each day like somebody who looks like they know what…
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Thanks so much for this. Should be required reading for all women and girls.
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it
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so good, and it does take many of us, myself included, to ever believe we have earned it and deserve
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I have to admit, it took me many long years to realize I really WAS capable and it wasn’t just an accident. Even now, I wonder. It’s like wondering when you will feel like a grownup. I remember when I was in my 20s, I had some friends in their 50s and I asked them when we know we are grown up and they said, “We’ let you know when we find out. “
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Ha. I somehow missed this the first time. Love the marshmallow assignments. Hilarious.
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