Birthdays and Imposter Syndrome

So my friend (yeah, the same one who worried I’d turn back into an asshole when I was unemployed) said I need more regular Cheesecake and Barbell posts. So here it is.

I detest my birthday. Not necessary the day itself, though it’s always felt a little hollow. Like, should I be feeling any different now? Should I be more mature, or whatever. I mean, I still laugh at juvenile dick jokes. That’s jokes that are juvenile, not jokes about juvenile dicks. Because that’s just wrong.

It’s because I set pretty high expectations for myself, and each year my birthday essentially reminds me that I’ve failed to reach them. Before anyone jumps in here. It’s just an explanation of what goes on in my head. My brain is like, err, shouldn’t you be a success by now?

Not that I’ve detailed precisely what success is, which is part of the problem. But there ya go.

The imposter effect.

Everytime I coach someone for the first time, I’m shitting myself. It’s like “oh, now you’re going to get found out you know nothing about the snatch.”

The internal dialogue is like “sure, everyone knows the power position, it’s obvious.” But then I’ve to realise that things that are obvious to me are only obvious because I’ve spent so much time observing them so my brain is wired that way. I’m fairly sure I could take an athlete right to the podium in The Games and still feel like I was riding my luck. It’s a weird one.

It’s the same when anyone asks me my advice, on anything really. My advice is always caveated with “I could be wrong, I dunno, this is what I’ve done and…”

I’m becoming convinced that life makes no fucking sense. And we’re all just guessing. And I think that’s it. Sometimes these guesses are more likely to succeed than others, and sometimes they are just guesses. We’re all of us notoriously bad at analysing information without a million different biases and filters. So all we can do is take our best guess and roll the dice. See what the result is, and then ante up again.


(Nothing to do with the blog, just came to mind when I said “Ante Up”)

We’ve another tendency to think that everyone around us is operating on better information, and living a better life. That business down the road looks like it’s run perfectly, and everything is going fine. Who knows that that owner is piled up in debt, sleeping on his friend’s couch, separated from his wife, and drinking a shoulder of whisky each day?

So what’s the point of all this? I’ve been told these blogs help people so I’m all about that. I believe that if you can help someone you should, so if this helps people it’s worth it. I could be wrong, I dunno, but this is what I’ve done šŸ˜‰

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