Everything that could have been

On Imposter Syndrome

I often talk about how I grew up pretty lonely as a child, which led me to be kind of into philosophy at a young age. What I don’t talk about, however, is how I stopped studying philosophy as I got older. It’s not uncommon for kids to abandon things they enjoy as they grow up, but I like to avoid thinking about it as much as possible because of the guilt it brings up.

It wasn’t only philosophy that I abandoned, but it was also painting, writing, and drawing; it was creating stories. Thankfully, I picked up painting again when I was 14, which changed my life. I’ve also been slowly picking up the rest of the things I’ve abandoned, like writing. However, I keep it safe by only ever writing about my own human experience.

I feel as if I’ve abandoned my passions again, though. Ever since moving back home, I’ve put my artistic career on the back burner instead of prioritizing it after graduating from art school. I’m beginning to realize this is due to fear, as most things in my life are currently.

I don’t think it’s widespread for people to get the opportunity to go to art school abroad, let alone in Florence fucking, Italy. I, for some reason, got that opportunity. I got to work with outstanding and ultra-talented artists to hone in on my craft. I learned about the history of art in the city where so many of the greatest artists in art history lived. And now I’m here, back home, and freeze up whenever anyone starts talking about art.

There’s a big part of me that’s constantly terrified of not being good enough and of people finding out. I live in constant fear of being found out by people, but I didn’t realize what my fear was until recently.

I feel like a fraud in many things, and art is one of them. I fear I don’t know enough, and I’ll never know enough. I fear being ridiculed for it. So, I’d rather stay quiet. Avoid, at all costs, being found out. I know that a simple solution would be to study more since it’s what I love. I practice more since it’s what I love. But I find myself paralyzed by fear whenever art comes up, and I’m so tired of it.

As a child, I didn’t know what philosophy was because, duh, I was a child. However, since I had no one to play with, I had much time to spend with my thoughts. Which explains why I am the way I am now as an adult.

Anyway, I spent a lot of time thinking as a child. I wasn’t interested in the internet all that much, and I pretty much only had my Barbies to play with. So, when I was not playing with my Barbies (and making them kiss), I would draw, write stories, or just think. And that thinking led me to some pretty anxiety-inducing thoughts as a kid.

When I was younger, I loved waking up early, meaning I would also go to bed super early. I remember this one night we visited my mom’s family in San Pedro. At the time, all 5 of us (my siblings, parents, and I) would share a room at my aunt’s house whenever we visited. I’d usually be the first one in bed, and the rest of my family would stay out socializing. This one particular night, I couldn’t sleep; there were all these weird shadows coming from the trees outside, and I guess I was somewhat scared.

I have felt a weird sense of anxiety every time I’m in San Pedro for as long as I can remember. This night was no different. I also wasn’t a very happy kid. I wasn’t grumpy or mean or bratty, I was just sad and lonely and very, very sensitive. For the record, I had a good childhood. I had no significant traumas during it, so I don’t know what drove me to be so sad.

Anyway, I couldn’t sleep that night. I was anxious, and I was sad. So, I just thought. And that made me think about what life would be like if I didn’t exist. This wasn’t an uncommon fantasy of mine as a child. It might not have been the most normal thought, but it wasn’t unusual. I quickly realized, though, that I would always exist. I could never imagine a life without me in it because I was imagining it. That was, without a doubt, a very overwhelming and complex thought for a child to have.

one like = one hug to myself as a lonely child

It wasn't until my early teens that I learned this was an idea already. I think, therefore, I am. I am aware that this is, like, philosophy 101, but it filled me with anxiety as I realized so as a child under ten years old. I can’t pinpoint an exact age for when this happened, but my sister was still living at home, so it was before 2010.

I obviously don’t think I was a genius; I just had a lot of time to think. Once I realized this was philosophy, and there were many crazy ideas like this, I got really into philosophy. This didn’t last long, though. It didn’t go much further than my early teen years because I’ve been terrified of not being as great of a thinker as I was as a kid. I’m scared I peaked there, which does sound dumb now that I'm writing about it.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe all these are symptoms of imposter syndrome—this idea of me being a fraud, of not being good enough no matter how hard I try. So, I choose not to try because I tell myself it will never be enough regardless.

This feeling haunts me not only creatively but also in my daily life, my health, and my friendships and relationships. It’s exhausting to live with.

I know everyone deals with imposter syndrome—or many people do, at the very least. The advice you’re always given is to fake it ‘til you make it, but I’m also scared of doing that and eventually being found out.

Once again, this post has no actual resolution. All I know is that I must overcome this fear of being found out because there’s nothing to discover, and I have no clue where to start.

I am more than open to any advice on how to deal with this, except if it is to fake it till you make it. Maybe.

I sobbed while writing this because it’s hard to write about my fears and lonely childhood. So, if you’re still with me, thank you for reading this. Thank you to everyone who comments and likes my posts. It does mean the world to me.

All the love,

Marcella the Gem(ini)