Benjamin Franklin gets the credit for saying that, in this world, nothing is certain save for death and taxes. There are a few other things I could think of adding to that claim, but for the purpose of this piece, I’ll add self-doubt to the list. 
If you’ve ever had these thoughts:

• I just got lucky.
• This piece isn’t good enough.
• I’m not a real artist/designer/writer.

…then I wrote this for you.

We know about it, so why is it still a thing?

Social media, with its reels and non-stop access, allows for endless comparison. People and portfolios look polished and put together, reinforcing the subliminal message that you could be lacking in something. With millions of points of comparison for our every action, how could you possibly feel you measure up?

Particularly in creative endeavours, you pour your heart and soul into consumable projects that are judged (likely mostly positively). Depending on who you are or what you produce, feedback is often unsolicited. Add to that the expectation of always being able to innovate and improve EVERY time. How can anyone be expected to live up to that?

Early in my publishing career, I had the opportunity to attend a party for a well-known American author who had never travelled to Canada. This event was a big deal, so the who’s who of the industry were in attendance. Jennifer, the longtime fan of the author, was thrilled.  Jennifer, the newly minted publishing professional, wanted to disappear through the floor. Every conversation I took part in or overheard reinforced how much I didn’t know about publishing and how many people I had yet to meet. 

Even the best onboarding package doesn’t come with the legacy knowledge and nuance necessary for success.

My first two-ish years in publishing were the hardest, but I got through them by:

• asking questions
• asking the same question a different way if I wasn’t getting it
• finding people who didn’t have a degree in publishing 
• doing SO MUCH listening
• reminding my self that I was learning and gaining knowledge every day
• reminding myself that this, too, shall pass

And it did pass. I worked with more people, absorbing as much as I could as quickly as possible, while managing to achieve some great things for authors, booksellers, and retailers alike. When I joined this agency five years ago, the whispers of “What do you know?” and “How will you do this?” snuck in along with the noise of “You have no design degree!” and “You just got lucky last time.”

Thankfully, I don’t believe in luck much. And if anything, I’m proof that a degree (psychology, thanks for asking!) is only a part of your career equation. What does matter?

• grit
• determination
• a generous slice of humble pie
• asking many questions, usually repeatedly
• a team both personal and professional to keep me focused

Put all those things together alongside my ridiculous desire to prove the naysayers wrong, and here I stand. Like many other topics, impostor syndrome is one we need to discuss to help normalize something that many of us experience. However, the reasons for it will vary according to circumstance. I am consciously making an effort to share my mistakes, doubts, and uncertainties so that the success this agency enjoys comes with context. It isn’t always clean, neat, or easy, but the bigger picture of the future, my legacy, and developing the next version of this company keeps me focused.

The doubts never fully go away. I would be worried if they did. Fear keeps you humble, and when you care about something or someone, you naturally care about what happens to them. It’s a matter of figuring out how to acknowledge the voices in your head, question the root of the worry, and find the way that works for you to deal with it. The voice can be in our heads — you just don’t want it to be the loudest.

One thing I can tell you for sure is the world needs more you and more of what you create. I am excited to see what you have to share.