IMPOSTER
How would you know when you made it You lookin’ back, huh I been feelin’ emotions Stuck in the back I’m reelin’ back I’m all alone, feelin’ attacked I’m always two steps forward Then I’m packin’ a bag I’m at the Who’s Next door Then I’m tappin’ for masks Like can a fool step forward Pattin’ for mass, I’m on the backspin Makin’ tentative plans, it’s like I’m askin’ Last chance, the buckle fastens Backtrackin’ though You’re backtrackin’ though You’re backtrackin’ you know You’re backtrackin’ like Back where it started Lookin’ out for snakes in the garden Gettin’ kicked out Now dearly departed First the fallin’ out Was long way down I’m feelin’ lost, then I’m found lookin’ round Like who started it Good question but I didn’t wanna go there (Yup) Take a minute We’re infinite, where the soul went Hey, I been feelin’ what I think I know, I’m On my own, I keep the minutes when I go there Backtrackin’ though You’re backtrackin’ you know Imposter You’re backtrackin’ though You’re back I’m tellin’ myself It’s forward motion I been feelin’ myself An open ocean I’m revealin’ myself Hope no one noticed Keep unpeelin’ my health I know I know this, then I’m Backtrackin’ though I’m backtrackin’ though I’m outta banks I’m outta mind I’m outta range Outta time keepin’ up with things Judged by what you drive Gotta take it in stride And if the shoe fits, baby Then, it must be mine Rip tide, pull me back at night Pull me back into the service I’m not feelin’ right Even keel, below the surface Shrieking eels, at night Got me lookin’ over shoulders Like I’m feelin’ eyes Well, uh Go get ‘em They tellin’ me go get ‘em then (Go) I been feelin’ a ghost, better go’n get ‘em then Fight or flight, I’m at the throat I know I meant it, then If we don’t see ‘em eye-to-eye, then Who’s the better man I’ll show up without a fee, you make ‘em fight then I’ll see who can run the route, let’s make ‘em tight end I can feel what’s under doubt, let’s make it right Then you and I are steppin’ in the ring It’s fight or flight and then I’m fleein’ It’s fight or flight and then I’m fleein’ huh It’s fight or flight and then I’m fleein’ It’s fight or flight and then I Fight or flight and then I It’s fight or flight and then I’m Choosin’ both On two sides: I’m outta time, I’m on my own I gotta go, I feel the pattern ravel close I keep it up, it flows 404 unknown, I’m out the door, then Oh no I’m backtrackin’ though Outta my banks, I’m outta my mind I heard it all Out of my face, I’m outta my time I heard it all What you do for work What you spinnin’ on the curb What, you Windu with a verse? Amateur Amethyst, then I break another curse I’m bleedin’, another first Ah Fick, and I’m makin’ up other words, yeah Flow from the heart, don’t get it right from the first try In another life you never started So put me in, Coach Tell ‘em I’m ready I play to win, Coach Tell ‘em I’m steady I may offend, no, I don't mean to be petty In my defense, I need a friend Someone to validate and see me I need a win Who you provin’ Who you talkin’ to it anyway What you doin’ blockin’ out what’s comin’ anyway Who you stoppin’ talkin’ ‘bout you on the inter-waves Who you, prove it to yourself You’d do it anyway Imposter Impostor Imposter
Credits
Written and performed by me
Mixed and Mastered by Deya Records & Angel Vergara, El Otro Lado Studio
Album cover art photography by Wesley Verhoeve
Check out their wonderful Substack (how we connected!):
Back of the Page
How do we know when we’re being authentic?
If we’re doing what comes naturally, why do we try to protect ourselves from being perceived?
What beliefs are hiding underneath, and who are we trying to prove it to, anyway?
The Imposter is a voice that tells me I’m not safe to be myself.
That it’s safer to conform or fawn for approval, fight for justice as a victim, or flee to avoid confrontation and start over again.
These are things that I’m choosing. That I’m accountable for.
I’ve felt the signals to let go of people pleasing, victim stories, and fleeing accountability, but being aware of something and changing behaviors are two different things, aren’t they?
This song is about pulling the Imposter voice out into the light and examining the beliefs that I’ve been feeding it.
In four months, I’m turning 40. This song is my commitment to figure this Imposter voice out.
In a leap of vulnerability, I’m sharing the personal story of why this matters to me, here, without a pay wall. It would be ironic to hide this only for those who have paid or subscribe. So, I hope that in reading it, you can identify with some of what I’ve felt on this journey, too.
Coin Flipping to Fit In
In high school, I felt torn between identities.
One part of me was a nerd: building computers, making websites about my favorite video games… only a few very close friends and my family understood and embraced this side of me. I felt like I needed to hide this from most people, because it would be too hard to explain, or worse, I’d be seen or labeled a geek. Back then, there were anti-social connotations, and I wanted to blend in, conform more. Something was telling me to HIDE this part of myself, to conform.
So, I found it easier to blend in to success stories in sports, where I could perform and prove my worth on the field.
I remember being surprised when they announced Senior team captains. I told myself it would never be me, thinking of reasons why, letting myself down easy. Then they said my name, and the team started clapping and turning to me…I looked at the guy who I thought it was going to be and felt the voice: IMPOSTER.
My first two jobs were working at a computer store and taking notes in as a court reporter. When I applied for an internship at a tech company on the recommendation of my neighbor, I felt the voice again: IMPOSTER.
When a family friend said off-hand at a party that the only reason I got the job was because our neighbor worked there, and that they paid interns too much, I felt the voice: PRIVILEGE.
Even though I had self-taught myself coding, and was very good at it, and worked full-time during all breaks throughout college while still taking part-time jobs on campus, this voice kept trying to pull me back.
To stave it off, I wore a formal suit to my interview, to try and fit into corporate world. I adopted a buttoned-up, positive can-do-Boss attitude. I fit in really well, and started to wear it like a chip on my shoulder - it felt good to BELONG again.
A few years later, in my first Startup job in San Francisco, I showed up in a collared shirt and slacks. After a few days of this, the Founder pulled me aside and said:
“you know, you don’t have to wear that, if you don’t want to, we’re casual here…”
When everyone else was in jeans and T-shirts, I was trying to signal my competence by wearing my old uniform.
After interviewing for 6 months and moving my entire life to SF for the job, this was my chance to prove that I knew what I who I was to a new community. And yet, I was being so inauthentic it was having the opposite effect: I was isolating myself as someone unapproachable, elitist, pretending to be who they’re not.
So, I switched up my style to be casual, all for the reason of fitting in, again. Two sides of the same coin: I was flipping bits in response to external perception. What did I actually want to wear? I don’t know.
Hero Lore
I found myself wearing the company shirts.
Hack-Day this, Product Launch Y, Team Day Z.
Artifacts commemorating our collective achievements and wearing them proudly on my chest. Diving headfirst into Startup Hero Lore, like a fiat currency that can only be exchanged for swag at the company store. A nifty new crypto coin, held forever by true believers: To the moon!
I felt that I needed to hide my private life, that something found out about me would reveal me as a fraud, and everything would unravel. Where was this coming from?
In football, I started both ways and made All-League teams. I thrived in predictable skill-based situations where I could practice, compete, and win
(Put me in, Coach… / I’ll see who can run the route, let’s make ‘em tight end)
I was promoted at every job from an Intern to Engineer, Product Manager, and Startup Founder for 15 years until burning myself out and being laid off. It was never enough.
(How will you know when you made it?)
In reality I was in debt up to my eyeballs, living paycheck-to-paycheck, spending more than I was making. I bought the symbols that others did once they were “successful”: the new Audi, the Louis bag, the big suburban house with Nice Schools™️
(outta time keepin’ up with things / judged by what you drive, gotta take it in stride)
(what you do for work? what you spinnin’ on the curb?)
To keep pace with…what? I was in denial. My health was declining. I would eat UberEATS at my desk while on Zoom meetings, then run miles around the neighborhood at night, after our kids went to sleep. I was the heaviest I’d ever been, and I was drinking a lot to calm the anxiety, a habit I’d seen play out with family before.
(peelin’ back my health / I feel the pattern ravel close)
It was this feeling of being at odds with, and judging, myself. I was numbing to avoid the confrontation that self-awareness had in store for me.
(if we don’t see ‘em eye-to-eye then who’s the better man? …let’s make ‘em fight then)
In 2017, I had a panic attack, started going to therapy, and realized that my nervous system was completely shot, unregulated. If this was success, it didn’t feel like it. Who was I, when I wasn’t in fight or flight, performing for someone else? It felt like being carried out to sea.
(rip tide, pull me back at night)
I was working this hard to live in this school district, and yet, I didn’t even feel safe having my kids in school. Appealing to a local congressman for support did nothing for my confidence when they responded with a resigned message linking out to their Op-Ed about how fucked we were - that nothing could be done to curb the violence in America.
(even keel, below the surface, shrieking eels at night…clearly, The Princess Bride was a cornerstone of growing up, for me)
Was I expecting too much, out of a sense of entitlement, or privilege? Were these societal issues all my responsibility to fix, too? Was I expected to be the Hero?
I’m Out The Door, Then
I kept getting this feeling to bolt out the door, or latch on to injustice and victim stories, and pick fights. Surely someone else was the cause of my discomfort. Someone else was to blame.
(Lookin’ out for snakes in the garden / Like who started it?)
Or did I have a role in to play in this?
(Good question but I didn’t wanna go there)
Well, my partner Zanni and I fled. I ended my Tech career. We sold our house and most of what we owned. We were privileged in that selling everything meant we could travel to different countries. We needed to break the repetitive patterns and get a new perspective.
(404 unknown, I’m out the door, then)
What we learned on our travels is that you take whatever is going on with you.
You are the common denominator.
I was accountable for my life, after all. (Yup)
(If the shoe fits, baby, then it must be mine)
With shadow work, yoga, and meditation, I started feeling all the emotions that I had suppressed or compartmentalized.
(I been feelin emotions stuck in the back, I’m reelin’ back / I’m all alone, feelin’ attacked)
It’s not something you can run away from. I’d make progress, and then feel like I was back at square zero wanting to flee again. This is the zipper sound throughout the middle of the song - stuffing things in my bag and zipping them up, representing the 2 years we were living out of 8 suitcases, looking for greener grass. Hoping to stay, but ready to leave at a moment’s notice.
(I’m always two steps forward / Then I’m packin’ a bag)
Each door from the past that I opened made me question who I trusted, and how they were going to hurt me. How they were going to lay me off for no reason, manipulate me for their gain, or see me as an imposter.
(I’m at the Who’s Next door / Then I’m tappin’ for masks)
I just wanted to step forward in faith, but felt like every time I met someone new, I was afraid of my boundaries being crossed, or being taken advantage of, so I would be patting them down for ways they could harm me, like a security checkpoint.
(Like, can a fool step forward / pattin’ for mass)
I was moving forward physically, but it still felt like back-tracking. Looking for ways the cycle would repeat itself.
(I’m on the backspin / I keep tellin’ myself it’s forward motion)
(It’s fight or flight and then I’m fleein’ huh)
Fall-back Plans & Vulnerability Hangovers
I started doing less and meditating more. As I slowed down and regulated my nervous system, something told me to start expressing myself. To try being safe with myself, regardless of what would happen or how other people would react.
(Take a minute / We’re infinite, where the soul went)
(I’m feelin’ myself / An open ocean)
I’d try something new, like writing and sharing a Song, then wake up with vulnerability hangovers. It was not-so-unlike the over-drinking I was doing all those years ago. Waking up with a headache, wondering what the hell I had said or done to embarrass myself, or let out too much of my real personality beneath the masks.
(I’m revealin’ myself, hope no one noticed)
These felt like false starts: ways to try expressing myself authentically, only to be pulled back by the Imposter voice in self-protection. If this was really my authentic expression, why did it feel like I was asking for permission to be myself and feeling an urge to walk it back?
Why was accepting myself conditional on how others perceived me?
(Makin’ tentative plans, it’s like I’m askin’)
Each act of vulnerability felt like the safety restraint harness on a rollercoaster locking down into place. What was initial excitement and pride in the work shifted into doubt, a fear of being seen, and I’d look for ways to sabotage, squirm, and get out of it.
(Last chance, the buckle fastens)
This feeling of shame would come over me. What if people could see me having fun in mid-ride, my hands free in the air - what would they say?
Who the hell does this guy think he is, enjoying himself?
What about [horrible global tragedy]?
How can he dare to be happy, now?
Had I paid my dues by feeling enough pain as a victim to earn this level of credibility? Is that how it really worked?
What was my goal in sharing online, anyway? Trying to find some solidarity, or another person who saw things like I did? Was I looking to earn a prize, handed out, before I even believed it myself?
(I need a friend, someone to validate and see me / I need a win)
In reality I was holding onto some deniability, a fall-back plan. I was still looking for a uniform to wear - a club to join. A logo to absorb as my personality in order to conform and blend in again.
I’d have thoughts often of just going back to Tech Jobs for the paycheck, and then talk myself out of it when I saw the state of the world and remembered how I felt doing that for 15 years.
(pull me back into the service, I’m not feelin’ right)
About-Face
I was still looking outside myself, facing BACKWARD at what just happened and how I interpreted it as happening to me, rather than trying on new perspectives right where I was.
(You’re backtrackin’ you know)
When I look through another lens of where I am now, I have so much to be grateful for. I’m not trying to be anywhere in the future, and I don’t really care who is going to judge me, a white privileged guy rapping about people pleasing and imposter syndrome.
The genre selector used to freak me out, as one of the first steps the Imposter creeps in: have you earned the right to label yourself Hip-hop, or are you Spoken Word poetry?
Like we’re trying categories on in the mirror and seeing if it suits us, from other people’s eyes.
An image of Mace Windu (Samuel L. Jackson) from Star Wars came to me, purple lightsaber gleaming. First, in a humbling sense: the Imposter voice told me to keep this shit in a journal rather than “take up space” airing it, as if I presumed to be a Chosen One Jedi Master trying to save the world. I’m not, but at the same time, I want to help people identify the Imposter voice by sharing my experience of bringing it to light. So many people try and shout down our voices, appealing to the “need to be an expert” that we rarely hear the story of people figuring shit out, as it’s happening. We only wave at them on the victory lap.
(What, you Windu with a verse? Amateur)
The reality is I’m only speaking to what I know right now - my life. So if people want to try and judge that, they can project out on me, if they want. It feels like breaking old curses: accumulated voices of family “friends” or ex-coworkers, strangers on the internet talking shit. I can’t control what they do, and it’s all a projection of what they believe inside.
(Amethyst, then I break another curse / I’m bleedin’, another first)
If you’re about to say it, trust me, my Imposter voice has probably said it first, with venom. An attempt to try and build up some immunity: to take the sting out of hearing it from somebody else, eventually.
(Who you stoppin’ talkin’ ‘bout you on the inter-waves)
The end of the song, I try to lighten up and be in the moment, dismissing the voice.
(I’m outta my mind, I heard it all / Outta my face, I’m outta my time)
I wrote and performed it all in just a few takes, selecting the final recordings without listening to them. It felt right, and you can hear that release in “Ah Fick, and I’m makin’ up other words.” I had no idea what Fick meant when I said it, but followed it up with “flow from the heart, don’t get it right from the first try”
I had to look it up later: the Fick Formula is a way to measure blood flowing out from the heart, into peripheral tissue. I left the line there, goofy as it sounds. My censor got overruled. As Andre 3k said when asked why he’s making meditation music rather than rap “this is what I’m feeling right now.” (thanks
for writing about that this week, it felt affirming to read your work). How beautiful to see someone try on a new expression and stand firmly in the contradiction, challenging how others are used to seeing them.Now, I’m just happy to be here, and I’m ready to accept the Imposter voice. By now, I know it’s not going anywhere. It’s my signal that I’m growing against the edge of a belief.
So, Put Me In Coach
The most emotional part of the recording process was when I was free-styling and heard myself say “in other life you never started”
The words caught me by surprise and my voice went out, completely. I had to stop recording to collect myself.
There’s a version of me that never started this. He stayed in the cycles that were killing him for perceived safety. He stayed pointing fingers at everyone else. He waited for someone in a Position of Authority to grant him a prize. Or, he kept fleeing until he was exhausted, losing faith that the world around him never changed to fit his needs. That realization washed over me as that verse tumbled out…I didn’t write it, it was just there when I let go, and allowed the feeling to exist out loud. So, it stayed.
The ending is my confidence coming out. The voice shouting over the Imposter. It reminds me that I’m doing this all to find out who I am, and that no matter what other people think about that, I’d do it anyway. To do anything else is to suppress who I am, and I’m not going to survive that.
(who you, prove it to yourself, you’d do it anyway)
Do It Anyway
I hope that sharing my journey and the story behind this song helps someone on their way through imposter syndrome.
Reaching that next external achievement milestone won’t suddenly make the Imposter feelings go away.
Fleeing the scene or feeling like you’re about to be “found out” and ridiculed if you open up are a normal part of the process of accepting yourself.
Lean into the cringe, it’s telling you something.
Find the space to slow down and see what beliefs are causing the fight, flight, or fawn.
When you’re ready, try one small thing that’s new, recognize the safety without looking to anyone else, and see if your comfort level or response changes.
The Imposter voice will still be there, kick echoing around like something sharp at the bottom of the well, but it may get quieter over time.
Impost(er/or) and the Substack Synchronicity Wavelength
As if to reinforce how I need to learn to appreciate the Imposter voice, in the moments before publishing, I realized that I may have misspelled Imposter.
The voice came up, again. You’re going to look like a fool releasing this with a typo. When I look up what the “right answer” is online, there are opinions that spelling it with an “e,” is “inferior” - what a perfect way to bring this full circle, in the final moments before it sees the light of day.
Then, I remembered the Substack synchronicities this week. Two other writers I respect released writing that spelled it the way I do, with an “e” rather than an “o.” I remember that reading their work, knowing I was feeling similar things, made me feel safe and not alone.
I remember that two more of my favorite writers talked about definitions of success:
and seemingly backsliding into anxiety spirals, but being propelled forward anyway:
The Substack synchronicity wavelength is quite a thing. Hopefully calling it out, as further reading, is helpful to anyone else navigating these waters.
Substack is also how I connected with
for a photo shoot back in May, here in Amsterdam (an amazing experience that the Imposter voice almost talked me out of, too). I’m glad he helped me break through.So what I’m realizing is, we do need to be seen by each other, once we’re ready to believe ourselves.
This is a leap of faith. I’m at the length limit, so let’s see where we land.
I’d love to hear about your impost(er/or) journey in Comments, DMs, or by sharing what you create. Let’s see what you misspell, and own up to, on the way.
Thanks for reading, and please consider subscribing to support my work. This is what I do, now, after all. No backtracking.
🎭
You can't get get more authentic that you have in this post. Reading it felt like seeing you pull yourself apart strand by strand, hold each up to the light, and see those separate truths inside. We are all more complex than each persona we show the world. It takes strength to acknowledge your gifts and your failings, and not see yourself as an imposter through the eyes of others.
lovely track!