Impostor Syndrome
Brian Sankarsingh shares a poem from the heart
Have you ever felt like you did not deserve the accolades or the recognition that you were recieving? Have you ever felt like you were a fraud because of it?
Two days ago, I was introduced myself to someone as a writer. Yikes. Even with almost six books under my belt the moniker felt ill fitting.; like I had borrowed someone else’s coat and it hung a little too loosely around the shoulders. A part of my brain wondered about what I would do if this person were to challenge me on this. Would I renege; “LOL! I was only kidding” or would I have the intentistinal fortitude to talk about my work.
Being a writer is a bit of a misnomer in today’s world where, in fact we’re all writers of some sort or the other. The fact remians that I don’t write for an audience. I don’t write because my fans desperately want to hear the next story or read the next poem. I write because I must. Which then brings me to the whole impostor syndrome thing. This persistent inability to believe that any success I might experience is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of my efforts or skills. It’s always there. Oh, I speak through it and you might not even know that I am a boiling turbulent tornado inside…but it’s there. So to my fellow impostors - you know who you are - with the utmost love and care I dedicate this poem to you and your struggle.
I struggle with what I am With so-called success and accolades Playing society’s useless charades While trapped in my mental stockade A literary jack-of-all-trades I grapple with what they say I am My talent seems mediocre I grapple with the moniker A wordsmith or chronicler Or poetic compositor I am unsure what I am A word slinging poetic pretender Never champion, always contender A nauseating literary offender Who despite the odds will never surrender I’m told there is a name for this Impostor syndrome It’s shiny but doesn’t believe it’s chrome So that when its left alone It goes back to feeling it doesn’t belong Yet I am sure of the path I must take To myself, I must be true Be it good or bad review Challenges I must pass through To finally share these words with you Listen to me well my friend Through your doubt and anxiety Fleeing from your own insanity Believe in your ability To share your message with humanity
Bio: BRIAN SANKARSINGH is a Trinidadian-born Canadian immigrant who has published several books of poetry on a wide range of social and historical themes including racism, colonialism, and enslavement. Sankarsingh artfully blends prose and poetry into his storytelling creating an eclectic mix with both genres. This unique approach is sure to provide something for everyone.
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I admire and appreciate the openness in this. There can be such a huge gap between self-perception vs. how others perceive us. It's one of the reasons I think it's good to let people know how we see them; what is obvious/undeniable to us might not be so obvious to them. With that said...
I still recall reading A Sliver of a Chance and getting to the line in My Child about those "little fingers..." I instantly saw and felt that tiny little hand with its tight, trusting grip. It's a moment I'll never forget, and it's one of the most beautiful and impactful poems I've ever read.