What Imposter Syndrome?
Because I’m not faking anything—I’m the source
The art starts with me. Period.
People love to talk about imposter syndrome like it’s a rite of passage. Like you’re supposed to second-guess yourself, shrink yourself, doubt your seat at the table—even when the evidence says you earned it.
But I’ll be honest: that’s not my story.
I don’t wrestle with imposter syndrome. Not because I’ve never been overlooked, or questioned, or underestimated. I have. But those experiences taught me something deeper than doubt ever could:
My work is my work.
And more than anything—I am the art.
Without me, none of this would exist. The words, the visuals, the curation, the storytelling, the way it all comes together—that's not just a process, that’s presence. That’s me.
I don’t create to impress or prove. I create because I was called to. Because what lives inside me deserves air. And the more I honor that, the less space there is for insecurity dressed up as humility.
Is my work perfect? No.
Is it always understood? Not always.
But is it mine? Absolutely.
And that’s enough.
In fact, it’s everything.
So when people ask how I navigate imposter syndrome, the real answer is: I don’t. I remind myself I’m not separate from the art—I am the art.
I don’t have to become worthy of my own voice. I am the vessel. The root. The rhythm. The reason.
Some recent reflections:
I don’t question my place—I built it.
My work speaks for me, because it comes from me.
This isn’t about proving. It’s about remembering.
I don’t separate myself from my art—I am the art.
I’m not a guest in my own story.
I’ll close with this,
Your art doesn’t exist without you. And it doesn’t need an apology to be in the room. It just needs you to believe yourself first.
