This spring, I traveled to France to speak at the Cannes Film Festival. I say that casually now, but before the trip, my imposter syndrome got so loud that I seriously considered canceling.
I’d started out being excited about the huge opportunity of speaking at Cannes. But as the event drew closer and I started hearing from colleagues/random LinkedIn acquaintances who were going to be there, my imposter syndrome began raging.
When Imposter Syndrome Turned Up the Volume
Not only did my thoughts start swimming with all the usual imposter syndrome noise, but I started imagining these vivid impending run-ins with my former colleagues at cocktail parties and even started picturing their faces in the audience scowling and heckling me while I spoke on my panel.
They were really realistic, understated heckles, too, which only made them worse.
It was pretty obvious what was going on: my brain was trying to protect me from a high-visibility moment by rehearsing everything that could possibly go wrong.
Catch is, even though I understood what was going on, I couldn’t figure out how to stop it.
I tried all the usual tools in my arsenal and even doubled up on guided meditations, but the phantom hecklers kept haunting my dreams and interrupting my workdays. Seriously, it got so bad at one point that I even considered canceling the trip.
The Dorky Ritual That Actually Worked
Then, one day, I remembered something I used to do when I first moved to Hollywood.
Back then, I kept a folder on my desktop full of 10-15 photos that I would click through as a kind of grounding ritual every morning in the days leading up to a big meeting.
Inside were post-pitch selfies I’d taken after meetings that had gone particularly well; a Joni Mitchell lyric that reminds me why I write; a photo of my dream office lined in books; and a couple wobbly pics of the LA skyline I’d taken on hikes with my dog — images that somehow still manage to say, “I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’ve made it this far.”
I hadn’t touched the folder in forever, and yet it had an instant calming effect when I finally dug it up a couple weeks before traveling to Cannes. None of the photos are perfect or remotely hype-y, but to this day each one has the power to make me pause and think, “Yes, this is me and this is how I value showing up in life.”
Yes — I found myself thinking — this is me and this is exactly how I value showing up on that stage in Cannes… Genuine… Present… Me.
From that moment on, I made a point of opening my laptop and clicking through this folder first thing every morning. And whenever the imaginary hecklers barged into my workdays, I forced myself to stop what I was doing and click through the photos then, too.
I felt more than a little dorky doing this and feel even more dorky telling you about it now, but the reality is: it freaking worked.
After just a couple days of reaching for that folder whenever I caught myself spiraling, my body felt calmer and my mind felt more soothed than it had in months.
The international travel was still a bear and the exhaustion of constant networking still wore me down, but by the time I made it to those dreaded cocktail parties full of familiar faces, I realized I wasn’t even nervous anymore…
Why the Photos Helped
The point wasn’t to hype myself up. It was to reconnect with specific evidence of who I already was and how I valued meeting challenging moments.
In hindsight, I also think the visual, specific nature of the photos is what helped most. After all, the acquaintances I’d been imagining scowling at me were real people, so it makes sense that it took something equally specific and real to help neutralize their “understated heckles.”
And now, as I recover from jet lag and type this message to you, I’m tucking a new photo into my magic little folder.
It’s an ever-so-slightly blurry shot I snapped of my microphone right before leaving the stage — a messy, poorly framed photo that probably looks meaningless to anyone else. But to me, it now says: I was scared, and I showed up anyway.
I hope this finds you showing up — and daring to take up space — in whatever way your own life is asking of you.
PS: Want a little extra support for the moments when imposter syndrome gets loud? Download my free self-talk scripts.
Pin it:
