Imposter (part 1)
As I pace the town, often with a child or two in tow, I’m acknowledged with polite smiles, which I mostly remember to return. Ahh, yes, a young (ish) mum who’s vaguely presentable, going about her business, I’ve got your number, their expressions say. And while, in part, they do, I sometimes feel like an imposter. A woman bursting with blazing thoughts and feelings, careering between self-doubt and self-assurance like a pinball machine in an earthquake.
Some days, I wander about feel like a belong-er. I do smalltalk and polite convo and it’s fine. My mouth flaps on autopilot, nothing needs much consideration as it’s effortless. Then, other days, I feel like – not a wolf in sheep’s clothing, exactly, that’s a bit too sinister, but some kind of vanilla-exterior-ed alien, agog at the world and all it’s societal norms.
Some days being normal feels effortless. Some days I feel a sense of genuine connection to most people I encounter. Their feelings, their wild, their mundane, their shortcomings, worries, dreams, plans for the weekend. Other times, I feel like everyone else is speaking another language and I am bereft of anything other than ‘mmm’s’, because what I’m really thinking is ‘what does it all mean?!' Like, seriously, what do you mean, what does the world mean, what is anything?’
I don’t say this with any self-aggrandising intent, by the way. I don’t think that my inner world is particularly interesting (to anyone other than me), nor do I believe there’s anything particarly special going on – sure, my humour may be a little darker than your average, I might feel an impulse to vocalise certain things that might not be met warmly, but I have enough restraint to – mostly – gauge the mood/the audience.
I’ve just had so many experiences where opening up has left me feeling like an overturned bin. An inconvenient, slightly minging spill to be cleared up. When I feel like an imposter, where everything starts to become abstract and norms feel absurd, I have to remind myself to follow social etiquette anyway. I’ve never regretted things that way, but I have regretted being impulsive and weird.
The thing is, I’ve been witness to enough introspection from others to know that I’m not alone in this. We all feel like this sometimes, right? Right?!
More to follow soon…