From Impostor to Expert: How I Learned to Own My Place in Love and Life
Let’s start with a confession: I used to think "impostor syndrome" was reserved for Silicon Valley tech bros pretending they understood blockchain or new parents Googling “how to burp a baby.” I never thought it applied to someone like me. But oh, did I learn.
When it came to relationships—whether romantic, professional, or even friendships—I was the queen of second-guessing myself. I’d overanalyze every word I said, every glance exchanged, and every decision made. I would step into a room or a first date with all the confidence of a cactus in a snowstorm—essentially just trying not to die.
But here’s the kicker: People didn’t treat me like an impostor. That part was all me. I was the one stuck in my head, replaying every supposed blunder like it was some twisted director’s cut of my life. Until, one day, I decided to call "action" instead of "cut."
This is how I moved from feeling like an impostor to living like the expert of my own life—not perfectly, but better than before. You can, too.
Step One: Your Inner Narrator Needs a Rewrite
Picture this: You’re on a date, and everything’s going great. The conversation feels like a tennis match—back and forth, effortless—but soon, that sneaky little voice pipes in: “Are you sure you’re interesting enough? Maybe they’re just being polite.”
That voice? She’s a jerk. And she isn’t even accurate.
I used to imagine this voice as one of those art critics from my youth gallery days—the type who’d sniff at a perfectly good painting and deem it “derivative.” I realized the best way to silence them isn’t to argue. It’s to recognize it’s just one opinion, not the truth.
Try this:
- Replace criticism with curiosity. Instead of thinking, “What if they hate me?” ask, “What would this date look like if I didn’t care at all about being liked?” (Spoiler alert: It’s probably more fun.)
- Keep score of your wins. That small moment where they laughed so hard they choked on their sangria? That’s a point for Team You.
Step Two: Let Awkward Moments Be Lessons, Not Landmines
Ah, awkward moments—the bread and butter of my twenties. Like the time I brought up Georgia O’Keeffe’s flowers on a date, thinking I was being #cultured, only to realize they had no idea what I was talking about. Cue the 15-second Silence of Doom.
But here’s the thing: Awkward moments are inevitable. Turning them into meaningful lessons is a skill.
For example:
- If you’re nervous, acknowledge it. One time, I straight-up told a date, “I’m a little nervous—I don’t do this often.” He smiled and said, “Me too. Let’s be awkward together.” Ice. Broken.
- Laugh it off. When I mentioned O’Keeffe and they stared blankly, I pivoted: “Well, now I know not to test my trivia knowledge this early in a conversation.”
Turns out, being imperfect doesn’t scare the right people away. It draws them in.
Step Three: Borrow Confidence From Your Comfort Zone
True story: When I worked at my family gallery, I could pitch Southwest art to collectors like I was born holding a paintbrush. I didn’t second-guess every sentence or worry someone would laugh at me (they didn’t, anyway). That confidence? It stayed in the gallery’s adobe walls—until I realized I could bring it with me.
Here’s how I translated my gallery grit to the rest of my life, including dating:
- Focus on what you know. Maybe you’re great at whipping up killer playlists or you make a mean green chile stew. Share the thing you love to do—it’s magnetic.
- Ground yourself in the familiar. I finally started suggesting first dates at Santa Fe’s art markets or local trails because those were my happy places. All of a sudden, I wasn’t “trying to impress.” I was just myself.
Bring what you feel strong about into situations where you don’t—confidence is contagious, even to yourself.
Step Four: Stop Giving Perfect So Much Power
Here’s a truth bomb: Perfection doesn’t get you anything except exhaustion. Imperfection, meanwhile, is where connection happens.
Some of the most meaningful moments in my life—romantic and otherwise—came not from nailing it, but from letting myself stumble. From being honest. From learning to value humor over having all the right answers.
For example:
- I recently botched making pozole from my grandmother’s recipe for a dinner date. It was bland, the hominy undercooked. Instead of spiraling into shame, I joked, “Clearly, my ancestors are shaking their heads at me right now.” We laughed about it and ordered tacos.
- Once, I blurted out the wrong historical fact while curating a gallery tour. Instead of panicking, I said, “Welp, turns out I’m human. Let me get that right for you.” A couple in that group sent me a thank-you note months later after buying a piece.
Trust me, nobody bonds over how flawless you are—they bond over your humanity.
Step Five: Celebrate Where You Are, Not Just Where You’re Going
The final piece of ditching impostor syndrome? Letting yourself feel proud right now. Stop waiting for some mythical day when you’ll finally be “ready” to own your life and relationships. Instead, look around and realize you’re already living it.
Quick ways to do this:
- Write down three things you’re doing well today—yes, today. Maybe you sent a text that made your partner laugh. Maybe you held firm on a personal boundary (applause emoji).
- Reflect on how far you’ve come. Growth usually isn’t loud or flashy—it’s subtle, like the golden hour creeping across the desert.
For me, it looked like this: I stopped apologizing for the space I took up. I stopped waiting to speak until I had something “perfect” to say. And the best part? Turns out, I belonged all along.
So, if you’re battling that voice in your head telling you you’re not good enough—whether in dating, love, or any part of life—know this: You are the expert of your own journey. Call the shots. Rewrite the rules. And most importantly, lean into the person you already are.
After all, impostors are people who fake their way through things. You don’t need to fake it. You’ve always been the real deal.
