Felix, my coach, asked it bluntly. I paused, then answered, “No. No, I don’t.”
I had been telling him about my anxiety over a coaching client, a clever regenerative farmer I badly wanted to serve well. What if I don’t deliver? What if they aren’t happy with the work? What if they want to stop working with me? What if they decide it wasn’t worth the money?All these questions sitting in my chest like a knot of thick jute rope. It did not take Felix long to see I was in a tussle with my imposter.
The tussle was costing me twice. I was pressuring myself to be right, and I was forgetting to be present. My client and I were having fun exploring the possibilities of their farm system, and my imposter was stopping me from being as curious as I could be and was not allowing me to enjoy the process of discovery.
The facts, as Felix kindly pointed out, ran mostly the other way - a growing client book, some repeat clients, a few long-term relationships, and a job with a leading regenerative consultancy. I was becoming a competent regenerative coach, maybe even a good one. Yet I had chosen a different story: once upon a time, there was an ambitious change-maker, and he was not enough.
Stories are made, not found, so I could make another. I greeted my imposter, thanked him, and told him kindly, “It’s OK, you can go now. I’ve got this.”
A few weeks later I was back on the farm with clients, and the tightness in my chest was gone. In its place were a nervous excitement, some butterflies, and thoughts of the adventures we might have that day.
A few months after that, I had the privilege of working with friends who have known me for years on their business strategy. In the evening over dinner, I described my journey through the CREATE program, and they asked what I was getting most out of it. I am usually a slow, reflective thinker, but this time I blurted out, “The courage to be myself.”
My friend paused, nodded and said, “Yes, we noticed.”
That was evidence too, from people who know me well.
Sometimes the right question at the right time is worth a lifetime of ruminating. My imposter still visits, and he is not useless. He keeps me ambitious and on my toes. But he is not the boss. When he takes charge, joy, fun and curiosity evaporate, and they are too precious to lose. So when I feel him creeping up, I reach for Felix’s question in my back pocket. It reminds me that I choose the story and the evidence I accept.
