Several years ago, after being inspired by listening to Guns ‘N Roses, I decided to pick up the guitar. And as any beginning guitarist will tell you, it ain’t easy. But I practiced and I practiced; I did exercise and exercise; I attended lesson after lesson. But it wasn’t long before I realized that I wasn’t getting any better. And then that’s when the doubt crept in; I kept hearing a voice in my head that said, “Maybe I’m
When my coach took me to my first martial arts tournament, I couldn’t help but feel like I didn’t belong. And watching my coach completely run through his opponent’s didn’t make me feel any better. Here I was, as nervous as I’ve ever been, and I’m watching my coach win flawless victory after flawless victory. And he wasn’t nervous at all. So I figured if I’m this nervous I must not be prepared; I must not be good enough. I found out later that this feeling had a name. It’s called ‘Imposter Syndrome.’
Well that was rude!
A dollar and a half is what I was owed after I bought my morning coffee, but that morning the barista had only given me a dollar back. I brought this to her attention: “Excuse me,” I said. “You gave me the wrong amount of change.” She apologized, told me she hadn’t been able to get much sleep lately because of exams, and gave me the rest of what I was owed. Before I walked away, she thanked me for being so polite about it. She had made the same mistake a few days earlier and the customer hadn’t been so nice about it;