Imposter Syndrome

Scrolling through my Instagram feed because that's what I do when I'm stressed... scroll scroll scroll... I was stopped by a post from The New Yorker: "Why Everyone Feels Like They're Faking It" by Leslie Jamison. Of course this was meant for me because hadn’t I been faking it for the last year? And isn’t there some prescient Instagram algorithm that reads my psyche? Mood? My Fears? I mean... I had been grappling with Imposter Syndrome since dreaming up my little pillow company last year. At first, the very rush I’d get after a USPS notification that the quirky-bright and bold fabric I’d selected in the wee hours of the morning from a tiny fabric store in Texas was ARRIVING was enough to quell both doubt and doubt’s big brother, fear. Those endorphins carried me to the mailbox and through the box opening and fabric ironing and all the touching of that glorious 100% cotton textile (of varying weight). And through the needle change and thread selection before finally setting that fabric through the whirr of Creating. But one can’t sew all the time. Endorphins wan. And doubt and fear settle in.

Entering this retail space is overwhelming, but I feel so compelled to share. To be a tiny, but mighty voice for lightness and brightness in what’s turned out to be a dim decade. Never before have we spent so much time in our living spaces, and never before have we needed better lighting, and damnit. A little pillow can do that. I swear. They are bursting from every sitting surface in my tiny place in North County San Diego. BURSTING. And no matter how lousy my day is going or has done gone, walking in the front door and seeing my velvety orange couch strewn—and I mean strewwwn—with my bright little creations, I can’t help but smile. Even if only a little. And so I want to share that. I want to enter this new space and try to be brave. And patient. And not feel lousy with Imposter Syndrome. And I’m crossing my fingers that at least a few of you will come along and dial that dimmer switch up. Just a notch.

Cheers from the bright side.

Tracey