The problem with growing up is that our bodies do it at a much faster rate than everything else. We desperately try to keep up with everything and everyone else by fast-tracking our sexual experiences (hindsight, again). And even with all this (albeit dodgy) experience, our self esteem seems to develop at a much slower rate. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it turns on its heel and tries to head back to the womb at warp speed.
Self-esteem and adolescence are about as compatible as Madonna and Sean Penn.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Not if we own up to frantic flapping and embarrassing mishaps and stop pretending that Stepford Wives exist. How fucking boring does Stepford sound anyway?
Trespassing
The problem with imposter syndrome isn’t that it stops us from being the things the world tells us we should be. It’s that it stops us from grabbing what we want from life. Nobody should high-jack the meaning of ambition or of independence and turn it into a rigid rule.
Ambition for me is being happy, feeling respected, challenging myself, standing up for what I believe in, speaking out and making an impact.
I’d like to be a leader of me.
But, and it’s a big but, life isn’t all about business and careers. There are many things we want to excel at and be comfortable with. Ambition isn’t all about status and independence isn’t all about money.
Sadly, however, we often get caught up in the evil clutches of imposter syndrome in many areas of our lives.
As a child, I thought there was something different about me. I didn’t fit in. Whether it was the kids’ birthday parties at McDonalds (parents of 80s kids have a lot to answer for. That and the Findus Crispy Pancakes and food colouring cupboard in the kitchen) or the coach trip to Twycross Zoo, I never felt part of it. I felt undeserving.
As I got older this sense of being an imposter followed me into adolescence (I don’t feel feminine enough), into the bedroom (I don’t feel sexy enough) and into the gym (I don’t feel like I’m striking the correct gym bunny pose while gossiping at the water fountain with my perfectly-formed, Evian-drinking, Nike-clad acquaintance.)
The weird thing is, the people who are seemingly the archetype in these situations, are not really that authentic are they?
Little miss gym bunny never broke out in a sweat at the gym because she never worked out at the gym. She just kind of…hung out there. Drinking Evian water.
The yummy mummy brigade might be spending more time being school governors, volunteers on coach trips to Twycross Zoo and master cake bakers than they spend with their own actual kids.
The high-performing porn star might look like she’s successfully navigated her co-star to the g-spot but even with plenty of cumbayah direction, she later told Elle magazine that she mostly fakes it.
Oh, and, not too long ago, two morons with bad hair landed themselves the top jobs in Britain and the USA…
I rest my case.
If you fancy a bit more of my writing you might enjoy The Twenty Seven Club or Parklife - funny and nostalgic novels set in the 90s that also explore the more serious issue of mental health…but with a bangin’ soundtrack.