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Dealing with feeling like an imposter. 

Once in a while, I find it difficult to do what I do. I’m lucky enough and forever grateful to be my own boss and run my own multi-faceted business, but that doesn’t stop me from falling prey to the Imposter Syndrome.

It often occurs thick and fast when having a post-work rundown of the day with my brother or when the girls and I get together and have that obligatory our-lives-suck-but-not-really chat. A feeling of ‘what on Earth am I doing?’. You see, I’ve experienced both sides: being my own boss, being a tiny cog in a huge company and I’ve even been the senior to an assistant and the Imposter Syndrome just strikes when it wants to. I guess the schooling system - the British one, by any means - prepares us for little else aside from to be spoonfed a curriculum, a regulated set of information. My work ethic and business head truly comes from my brilliant parents and from a handful of bright-minded and encouraging teachers, not from the system.

Without somebody to guide me and evaluate me (ironically this is something I, along with some hundreds of thousands of others, hated!) and generally set goals with me, at times I find it difficult to power through my working week. I work from home, sometimes in my office, most times in the living room. On some days, I can average 18 hours “at my desk”, on some days I work with three different clients as well as work on nurturing my own business, and other days I genuinely just cuddle my dog for multiple hours and do the laundry and clean the house for my parents. It’s part and package of my industry and profession, but right now, as I have an emptier day that’s consisted of an anaemia-induced 10am nap, a run to the DIY store, a puppy walk, helping my Mum pick up some bits and three coffees, I feel like an imposter. Is this in part due to scrolling through Twitter and seeing several fellow #Girlboss types nailing their days? Perhaps. But a thousand and one people would kill to command the direction of their own day, to have precious hours to spend with family and friends (I love my weekly coffee dates with Mama) and to be able to pamper my pup.

Imposter Syndrome is such a tough one to crack. Nowadays I try to soothe and quell thoughts of imposter-ism by remembering the reasons I started this path in the first place; by picking up the phone and being reassured by my little sister and by my boyfriend that I’m actually pretty bloody great at what I do; by realising I’m SO lucky to be in this position. And sometimes just with a bonus puppy cuddle.

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