She Was A Friend Of Mine...

I broke up with Imposter Syndrome & it was harder than I thought

Imposter Syndrome and I have been together for as long as I can remember. Even when she hesitantly allowed me to take the lead, she was never far behind; her piercing gaze could penetrate vibranium, and her voice, even though soft, could always find its way to my ears.

We’ve been together so long that the toxicity of the relationship felt normal—comforting even. With her, I could remain placid in contiment. Sure, I would feel this intense longing to bust out of the bubble and be more, but while she would allow me to walk towards opportunity now and again, it was never without reminding me of that one time. You know, the one time I just wasn’t enough; enough to keep the man, the job, or land the scholarship. Not educated enough or experienced enough, despite constantly opting to learn and grow. She often reminded me of how disappointment… no, failure hurt, and who wants that?

So, for almost two decades, we have been close. She has been privy to all my thoughts, has had access to my most intimate spaces, and has never missed the chance to tell me how it is and will be. I honestly never pictured a life without her in it… until recently.

I don’t know what it was about the solar eclipse, but whatever it was, it caused something in me to shift, to break. I longed to be seen, but not by another person. I wanted to see myself, and not in that cheesy, she looks in the mirror, and suddenly she’s beautiful sort of way - I wanted to see the good, bad, and ugly. I wanted to look at the things that I avoided in the mirror because they made me cry, the scars, both physical and emotional, that few people knew about, the eyes that sparkled in the sun, and the dimples that peeked out when I smiled too hard. All of the things that I couldn’t remember taking the time to notice in days, months, maybe even years. I wanted all of these things to be there so that I could see the remnants of myself and piece myself back together. And that’s what I did… or at least that’s what I’m trying to do.

It’s been a while since I went through a breakup, but I figure that the healing process still works the same. You go through phases of vulnerability, reflection, and unlearning the things that have become a part of your daily routine. You have the urge to make a change, which for me included putting three different colors of chunky marley twists into my head to signify my newfound freedom. And there are days when you miss the entity that at one point consumed you.

So here I am - at the vulnerable stage, informing the masses (or possibly just one soul that ran across this newsletter by mistake) that this is me putting myself out there - scared to fucking death.

I have no idea what this new beginning will lead to, but considering the connections that I’ve made since the breakup and the newfound freedom I feel when creating… I think I may end up falling in like with this little life.

…and if you are currently in the process of breaking up with imposter syndrome - or one of its cousins - I’m rooting for you. Whether it’s for the first time or the 10th, here’s your gentle reminder that you’re the Pink Starburst and deserve to be upcharged because you are highly favored and sought after (not to mention delicious).

If you are currently in the process of breaking up with imposter syndrome - how did you know it was time; what was the breaking point for you? I would love to hear your thoughts here or feel free to message me on my random thought dumping ground (Twitter).

Until the next post, peace, love!