“I’m so lucky!”
This is a phrase I’ve often used to describe my life.
My 20s have been chocked full of amazing experiences, and I’ve thanked luck for my good fortunes– booking a big contract, going on an amazing vacation, finding the perfect sublet, landing a cool gig, so on and so forth. “I was at the right place at the right time.” “I’m so glad they were looking for a blonde.” “The stars just aligned!”
As a dance major in college, the “you might never get a job” message was loud and clear. It’s a competitive field, after all. The result? A feeling that I’d be “lucky” to get any contract that came my way. And if one did, who cares what the paycheck and living conditions were. I’d be so lucky to get anything!
When I did get my first contract, I was overwhelmed with the feeling of luck. What an amazing opportunity to get paid to dance. I felt as though they were doing me a favor by hiring me. Giving me chance to get my resume going and kick off my dance career.
Bigger and better contracts followed. Yet, a nagging feeling of unworthiness simmered below.
I got that job because they felt bad for me. They needed someone last minute. They knew I would do it for less than that other person. Impostor syndrome* soon followed. I shouldn’t be here. There are so many people better suited for this job. I won’t live up to expectations.
*As defined by Merriam-Webster: Impostor Syndrome is “a psychological condition that is characterized by persistent doubt concerning one’s abilities or accomplishments accompanied by the fear of being exposed as a fraud despite evidence of one’s ongoing success.”
I felt unworthy and like a fraud. Surely there was a 3rd party at play. How could I keep getting these jobs?
Ah yes, luck! You must be my hero! By crediting luck, it all makes sense!
As I’ve gotten older, and perhaps slightly wiser, I’ve been able to take a step back to examine my life and dive into why I am the way I am. And it hit me…
Why in the hell am I crediting my accomplishments to luck?!
I’ve booked dance jobs because I’ve dedicated hundreds of hours, thousands of dollars, and 25 years of my life to my craft. I’ve had amazing travel experiences because I put in the work to save up the money to make them possible. I’ve landed awesome gigs in NYC because I’ve done the ground work and have proven myself as a valuable asset. I’ve lived a life I’m proud of because I’ve taken action, put in the work, and have made sacrifices in the pursuit of the things I love.
Yet, giving myself credit and hyping myself up feels awkward and uncomfortable. Typing those affirmations makes me slightly cringe, questioning if I’m being arrogant.
Here’s the thing. A contract should be a mutual exchange.
You have skills and talents that have taken years to refine. Someone puts a price tag on said talents, and you decide if it’s fair. This is true for every single job from software design to dog walking. However, as artists, we have misconstrued ideas about what’s fair because we’re so lucky to get a contract and are barely worthy of the offer at hand. Low pay for 14 shows a week and no benefits? Well…. I’m doing what I love. If I don’t take it, someone else will…
Unworthiness and impostor syndrome make it nearly impossible value oneself fairly. And it’s not mentally healthy.
As I’ve taken a hiatus (perhaps retirement?) from the dance world, I’ve seen how much emotional damage the mindset has caused. The feelings of impostor syndrome and unworthiness continue to make appearances in my life despite being able to rationalize that they shouldn’t exist. And it is taking hard work to not let those feelings get between me and my future.
Everyone’s journey is and will be different, but here are things that are helping me:
- Receiving compliments without giving a declaimer.
- Writing down positive affirmations about myself.
- Forcing myself to say no to work that doesn’t offer a fair compensation (more to come on this…)
- I’m not letting fear stop me from doing big collaborations with The Frugal Foodies.
- Reminding myself that confidence isn’t arrogance.
- I’m actively giving positive affirmations to the people in my life to help them see that they are worthy and that they capable.
And, most importantly, I’m not giving luck any more credit.
It’s me who has/will put in the hard work, time, and effort. I earned my accomplishments. I am not a fraud. And I am responsible for the life I live.
Knowing those things to be true and genuinely believing them are two different things. But I’m on my way.
