Changing careers can be stressful, to say the least. It isn’t something taken lightly even in the best of circumstances, but after more than nine years in the nonprofit world, I was finally ready to make a move. But as a full-time working mom whose family depends on her income, the pressure to find a job that not only kept our (literal) lights on while igniting my (figurative) creative fire was a seemingly impossible task.
After searching and thinking and doubting myself, I saw it: a position at my alma mater that would allow me to continue developing my fundraising and writing skills but be home every night in time to make dinner, if I were so inclined to cook. This inclination has yet to hit me, but it’s nice to have the option.
A successful interview and three weeks later, I walked into my new office with more questions than answers and a lot of anxiety.
What if I was only creative within my former constraints?
Could I really be successful at this level?
And should you really be wearing that blouse with those shoes?
Hello, imposter syndrome! Unfortunately for me, imposter syndrome spills over into all aspects of my life, not just my career. Imposter syndrome is a beast and a liar. That ever-changing definition of what a perfect mom, wife or employee is supposed to be is not only daunting, but impossible.
Will I ever be perfect at any of it? No, probably not. But I will be proficient.
Some days, proficiency means getting everyone out of the house by 8 a.m. with minimal cursing. Other days, we go for the gold and get everyone out of the house with socks on. When I am feeling my most over-achieving, the socks even match.
In twenty years, will anyone remember that my hair was always a little (or a lot) damp in the mornings or that my kid’s socks matched her outfit but not one another?
Probably not. So let it go.
And remember, always remember, that you may not be perfect, but you are enough. Slowly, steadily and with practice, I will learn to ignore that little voice telling me otherwise.
And I hope you do the same.
