Imposter sound dumb

That’s what it is, for me, at least. Imposter syndrome is a little voice saying:

🤡 “You sound dumb”

🤡 “You don’t know what you’re doing”

🤡 “You’re out of your depth”

🤡 “No one cares”

That last one is the most helpful and easiest to turn around. No one cares (as much as you do). That’s what I’m hoping as I now re-read this post on the LinkedIn editor and question why I decided to write about this topic!

The past weeks have been a festival of invisible self-flagellation. You see, I received advanced copies of the book on 2 November (also my daughter’s birthday and the day we finally got the keys to our family home). Cause for celebration, indeed?

Birthday, yes. But the other two triggered a deep-seated anxiety response.

So you think you can write

Book first. I wouldn’t say I like re-reading ANYTHING I’ve written. I read other people’s prose and can see its brilliance (especially satire – The Daily Mash is a favourite). But I can’t replicate it. Beyond the tone and style, I am acutely aware of fundamental grammatical shortcomings.

I still don’t understand why I was asked to write a book. My investigative cynic thinks it’s because I was naive enough to sign a deal that ensures the chances of ever making money on this venture are about the same as me winning the World Cup. I imagine other would-be authors were savvier.

I’ve yet to send out any of the advance copies or post about the book, until now. Why? Who the hell would want to read it? I know, I know. I should be in sales. Oh wait, I am. I run my own business. I should definitely be sharing the author’s discount code I have to drum up interest ahead of the 17 November release, right?

Playing at adulting

Getting the keys for our new home is amazing. I am acutely aware of the huge privilege (as I am the mortgage!). My daughter remarked yesterday, “I’m so happy. I love my room, our house, having a garden. This move is the best thing that ever happened to me.” Cause for much celebration.

Yes, but also me lying awake a couple of nights ago wondering what the going rate for a kidney was on the black market. I’m not joking. It was a fleeting – few seconds – of stress insomnia, but it came into my head. Dark, on many levels.

If I don’t do business there’s no recourse or back up. I have small people relying on me not screwing this up. Moving back to the UK after 12yrs away was never going to be as simple as CTRL+C and CTRL+V for the Singapore (and broader Asia) Ethics Insight customer base and project load. I knew that. But knowing and adapting are different.

Being a robot

To manage these feelings of anxiety, fear, and self-doubt, I go robotic. Russell Brand has an interesting podcast and he recently interviewed Jocko Willink, a retired Navy SEAL. Russell asked Jocko how he maintains an ascetic discipline (up at 4am, no bad food, brutal exercise, etc.). In particular, how does he do it when he doesn’t “feel like it”. Jocko replied explaining that he doesn’t let feelings get a look in. Just get it done.

I appreciate there’s much rejection around hustle culture and spartan morning regimes, here and elsewhere. I do understand and I am not suggesting what works for me works for you. We all have to find our balance and path. In the comments (after Russell’s IG post promoting the podcast), one person wrote, “Not robotic at all 🙄”. I can see why they might feel that, but I’m happy to be a robot if it means I get this wonderful luxury and freedom or being my own boss.

Traffic lights and multiple alarms

I’m not a feeler when it comes to what I need to do. I set lists. Each Sunday evening I categorise tasks for the coming week into “to do”, “in progress” and “to be tasked [to someone else]”. The tasks are coded (🚦) on a whiteboard and a top three identified for each day (marked with a different coloured magnet).

I get up usually at 5am. I take some time out, exercise, dog walk, before the family wake up for breakfast, school run, intermittent fasting etc. Today it was 3.35am. I have a lot to do. I REALLY didn’t feel like getting up when the alarm went at 3.30am. I knew that would be the case. So I set three alarms, 5mins apart. If I’d stayed in bed, I’d be feeling stressed now. But I’m not. I feel good.

Feelings will always be there. Good and bad. The only way I can guarantee more of the former and less of the latter is to move past the imposter sound dumb.

Shamelessly continuing

So, I write this newsletter (one of the three tasks for today). I promote the book (brilliantly, I might add by raising your expectations so stratospherically). I will explain more of the contents another time. But, in essence, it’s aimed at anyone who sees managing integrity risk and ethics as an important endeavour (but doesn’t have infinite resources; hence the bootstrapping bit). It’s my experiences of what works (in frontline and real-world settings). It’s not a book for regulatory arse-coverers, it’s for risk pragmatists and practitioners who care about doing the right thing.

As for the business, not being able to CTRL+C and CTRL+V the Singapore track record is a blessing. The new version is much better. We’ve learned from mistakes. Back to basics, back to an ABC model and finding ways to service the under-serviced (anyone who’s tired of weighty reports with big $ tags and no “how to…”).