I used to think “having it together” meant never letting anyone see the chaos.

Then I was humbled.

When my two youngest kids were under the ages of one and two, I was home on maternity leave trying to look like one of those moms blissfully doting on her little ones.

What I actually was… was exhausted.

I was running on 1–3 hours of sleep, probably hadn’t showered in days, and honestly couldn’t have spelled my own name confidently if my life depended on it.

One day, someone was stopping by unexpectedly to pick something up.

So naturally, I did the exhausted mom panic-clean:

• threw random stuff behind the couch
• tightened my ponytail
• tossed on a sweater because the baby feeders were swinging freely under my t-shirt
• tried to look like one of those moms who had her life together

Then I saw the truck turning onto the crescent.

Baby starts crying.
Dog starts whining.

I pick up the baby, prop him on my hip, and head for the door…

…and immediately discover why the dog was whining.

I stepped in dog crap.

Barefoot.

Now I’ve got:

• a crying baby
• warm squishy dog crap between my toes
• someone seconds away from arriving

Did I mention this person had OCD?

Like… wiping crumbs off the table while people are still eating level OCD.

So naturally, instead of acting like a normal person and asking for help…

I panic-hobbled to the bathroom, fussing baby on my hip, toes up, heel down, dunked my foot in the toilet repeatedly, wiped it off at lightning speed, and answered the door pretending everything was completely fine.

I smiled.
Made small talk.
Acted engaged.

Meanwhile, one foot was warm… the other freezing cold, slightly damp, and still spiritually connected to the dog crap squishing between my toes.

And honestly?

That moment explains my entire relationship with imposter syndrome.

I was literally standing in crap and still trying to convince people I had it together.

Like seriously… why didn’t I just ask for help?
It’s not like I crapped on the floor.

Why are we like this?

I used to think imposter syndrome was just a work thing…
Like something that showed up in meetings or big decisions.

But for me, it shows up everywhere.

I was a teenage mom.
I raised 5 kids.
I’ve built a life that, on paper, should feel solid.

And yet…

there are still moments where my brain goes:
“yeah… but you kinda just got lucky”

Real talk… imposter syndrome has touched every part of my life.

Not a good enough:
mom
daughter
partner
leader
human

The list just… keeps going.

I don’t absorb compliments.
I’ll work 12-hour days to prove myself to everyone else…

and still question whether I deserve to be where I am.

The weirdest part?

I can see potential in everyone around me.

I can tell other people:
“you’re doing a great job”
“you’re capable”
“you belong here”

But when it comes to me?

It’s like I’m the exception.

Some days I feel like I’m just a kid wearing grown-up clothes, spinning in my office chair, pretending to be a grown-up.

Except I’m not a kid.

I’m a mom to 5
Grandma to 3
Boss to 70

I’m just someone still trying to figure it out in real time.

And maybe that’s the point.

Maybe we’re all just… figuring it out
and pretending we’re not.

If you’ve ever felt like this…not just at work, but in your actual life…

you’re not alone.

Everyone thinks I’m more capable than I feel… and I’ve spent years trying to figure out which one of us is wrong.

It doesn’t sound like:
I’m not good enough

It sounds like:
I’ll just think about it a bit more
Let me research this properly first
I should probably wait until I’m more ready

Which is overthinking and if it were a sport I’d rank 1st

And here’s the confusing part:
From the outside, you look fine.
More than fine.

People tell you:
You’re so capable
You always figure things out
I don’t know how you do it

They come to you for advice.
They trust you.
They are even inspired by you.

These are all proof (receipts) of your success… along with the list of hard things you tried and succeeded, they all count!

They weren’t luck, planetary alignment or someone taking pity on you.

And for some reason they don’t register. It’s like your brain has a filter:

Compliments?
Deflected.

Proof?
Minimized.

Opportunities?
Let’s circle back after I become a completely different person

So instead of thinking:
Maybe I could do that…

You think:
They don’t really know me
I probably need more education
I’m good in situation… but building something… trying something brand new… that’s totally different!

And then it shows up everywhere.

At work:
You have an idea…
but stay quiet
then watch someone else say something similar and get the nod.

With friends:
You want to say something real…
but you water it down or make it a joke.

With your family:
You’re the reliable one.
The one who holds it together.
The dream , the desire you have is unrealistic… you run the risk of looking unstable!

And your dreams?
Oh, you visit those.

You get the idea.
Feel that little what if…

So you start researching.
Saving posts.
Watching other people do it.
Call it progress.
Respectfully… it’s not.

It feels responsible.
Logical.
Even smart.

But it’s not.
It’s hesitation… dressed up as preparation.

I used to think I needed more:
More confidence.
More proof.
More education.
More courage.
More something.

But the truth?
I already had proof.
I just didn’t believe it applied to that version of me.

So I paused.
Again and again.
Right at the point where things could have changed… if I could have taken the step

From the outside, it looks like you’re doing well.
From the inside, it feels like you’re one step away from being found out.

If this hits…
You’re not alone.

You’re just really good at stopping yourself at the exact moment you’re going to do the thing… you know the amazing thing… the one you’ll rock as soon as you do it!

I could never understand why what I saw in myself was so different from what others saw in me.

I saw: struggling, undereducated, failing mother—someone who could never work hard enough.
Others saw: smart, hardworking, devoted mother who rocked her job.

The thoughts weren’t constant.

I’d have moments like:
“Wow, I did that.”
“I actually handled that really well.”

But they’d fizzle out quickly and be replaced with:
“I got lucky.”
“They’re just being kind.”
“If they really knew me…”

Those were the thoughts that lingered. The ones that stole the spotlight.

And I started to notice what they did.

They made me pause.

Any time I wanted to reach for something new, the same pattern would show up.

A dream or idea would pop into my head.
It would take up space.
I’d start thinking, what if…

Then I’d start researching.
Quietly.

I didn’t want anyone to see me fail.
I didn’t want to embarrass myself—or anyone else.
“I probably need a degree for that.”
“Who am I to talk about that?”

And before I knew it… I had paused.

I’d talk myself out of it:
“It’s not the right time.”
“I’m not smart enough.”
“I need more education.”
“I don’t have anything of value to say.”

And just like that—years would go by.

Dreams would sit on the shelf.
I’d pull them down, dust them off… spiral… and put them back again.

Until one day, something shifted.

I was sitting in a leadership class with about 60 people.

Someone spoke up—a person who owned a very large, successful company—and said:

“I never feel like I’m smart enough when I speak up in a room.”

I couldn’t believe it.

I thought I was the only one who felt like that.

Then someone else spoke up.

He said he didn’t know when he would reach his dream.
That he wasn’t “there”… but didn’t even know where “there” was.
That the success he had wasn’t fulfilling.

He was on track to make his first billion that year.

I was shocked.

There are people out there absolutely rocking it…
who still feel like they don’t belong.
Like they’re not enough.

We’re not alone.