Right, confession time. This is not the story I planned to share with you..
Last week, I wrote it all out, every wobbly, honest bit of it and then sat there staring at the screen.
My palms were sweating. My stomach was doing somersaults. I worried it would show a side of me no one usually sees. The irony, of course, is that I had written about Imposter Syndrome as a small business owner, but it was imposter syndrome that was holding me back from sharing this side.
So I decided to compromise with myself and do what any overthinking human does and I decided to scrap it. I thought, I’ll just pop a little post on social media instead, something quick, nothing too deep, something that would fit perfectly under the rug.
Within 30 minutes of posting, the panic set in. That gut feeling, like sitting outside the headteacher’s office because I had been talking in class again. So I took it down. What I didn’t realise was I’d only deleted it on Instagram… and not on Facebook.
Two days later, I went onto my business account on Facebook and there it was, an over flow of kind comments. Messages saying thank you for sharing, because they felt it too and words of encouragement to keep going. Honestly, I sat there thinking, wow, maybe vulnerability isn’t the scary monster I had originally thought it was.
So here it is, the original piece, vulnerability in business on a platter.
This week has been a bit of a meh. Running my beautiful company, Olive & Joyce. Navigating the unexpected spice of peri-menopause. Trying to be the best mum I can be, even when I feel like a frazzled human breadstick. Honestly, if someone could bottle a serum for emotional resilience, I’d slap it straight on.
In the middle of all that noise, I noticed someone had quietly crept back in.
Mrs Imposter Syndrome.
You might know her. Bit of a know-it-all. Wears a matching beige cardigan and skirt, carries a red pen. She first showed up when I was a kid, navigating dyslexia and hyperactivity. Back then, she whispered things like, “You can’t do this,”thinking it would soften the blow when things went wrong. She told me to prepare for disappointment. For red marks. For the sighs from teachers who didn’t see how hard I was trying.
Last month? I was flying. Ahead of the game. I felt excited, focused, and properly proud. My skin was glowing. My head was clear. I think Mrs Imposter Syndrome had gone on a cruise.
But this week? She’s back. And she’s only gone and flipped the lights off on her way in.
So what do I do when it all feels a bit much?
I write it down. I share it, even when every part of me wants to hide, because my gran always said, “Sharing is caring,”and she was right.
I’m not writing this for sympathy or cheerleading. I’m writing it because I know I’m not the only one who has wobbles. If this lands with you, if you have met your own inner headteacher, inner critic or your own self-doubt as a business owner, I see you, I hear you.
And here’s what really gets me through it…
I open my cupboard.
I see my products.
The ones I’ve poured my heart, time, and (let’s be honest) several litres of tea into.
The moisturisers. The labels. The textures I tested a dozen times. The kind messages you’ve sent me about them.
I realise, maybe Mrs Imposter Syndrome hasn’t just been a complete nuisance all these years. Maybe, in her own awkward way, she’s been part of the reason I’ve worked so hard. Maybe she isn’t the villain, she’s just the fire that made me prove her wrong.
She might whisper doubts. But my products? They whisper louder.
So no, I don’t always feel like I’ve got it together. But I have got this.
And so do you.
With love (and SPF),
Emily x
P.S. If you have ever felt like you are one step away from deleting your own story, please know you are not alone. Sometimes the things we are most afraid to share are exactly what someone else needs to hear. Sharing your story about self-doubt and honesty can inspire someone else to keep going.