Feeling like an imposter at a writing retreat
Today, I share Mariana’s story about something we’ve all faced, of feeling not good enough, smart enough, whatever enough—also known as the imposter experience. Here's what happened.
Mariana is one of my closest friends. You might have seen her in my photos in the newsletter I wrote about going to Norway this past May. During the trip, I learned how inadequate she felt about her time at a writing retreat. The retreat was five days long, which can feel like a lifetime if you’re grappling with the question, “Do I belong here?”
We originally recorded the conversation so I could share it as a podcast, but the software program I used was new and apparently recorded only my voice and not hers. But I’m glad we had the conversation because I heard the full story and it really resonated with me, so I wanted to share it with you today.
Mariana went on her very first writing retreat in February. It was one of those opportunities where the stars aligned so perfectly it was impossible to say no.
The daily grind of work and life left Mariana stressed and overworked. Weekends were never long enough to catch up on sleep, exercise, errands, and time with friends—and that deeper desire to create something for herself was stifled. She was ready for something, anything.
Of course, I didn’t know any of this when I texted and asked if she could drop everything and go on a writing retreat (like, tomorrow) to Key Largo with Writing Class Radio.
Someone had canceled and I was asked by one of the teachers if I was interested in going—all I had to do was pay for my plane ticket to Florida. As much as I wanted to jump at the chance, the timing couldn’t have been worse. I was moving to a different state, so I passed. I was asked if I knew anyone else who might be able to go—I immediately thought of Mariana.
I thought of her because I knew “no” wouldn’t be the first thing she’d say. Even if she did, she’d weigh the pros and cons before reaching that decision. She can also hold a conversation with anyone.
She’s the kind of person who is willing to put herself in uncomfortable situations, and in this case, surround herself with a group of writers and do something totally foreign, like writing personal essays. Mariana is a naturally curious person and opens herself to the universe and when it calls to her in unexpected ways.
All of these qualities are reasons why I am drawn to her and why I thought she was the perfect person to go on the retreat. 😍
After a few back-and-forth texts and calls with Mariana and my teacher, it was done. She was excited to go on her first writing retreat to Key Largo and enjoy five days of writing, sunshine, and home-cooked meals. Oh, but only if it were that simple…
Trying something new is hard
Feeling like I had just signed up my kid for her first summer camp, I felt slightly nervous. Anything new can be scary. Being around a group of writers can be intimidating, especially when you don’t come from the writing world.
Plus, English is not Mariana’s first language, so getting over that hump of wondering if her grammar was correct or if she used the right words would likely be another hurdle. I remember when my mom was in school to get her AA degree and had to write essays. She was always concerned about grammar and sounding too much like a foreigner. I could tell it made her feel a certain shame and embarrassment.
I sent Mariana a bunch of “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine” texts while giving her a heads-up about what to expect. I tried to reassure her that she would learn quickly just by listening.
In one text, I wrote, “It’s hard to explain, but you’ll start to quickly understand what you’re supposed to do after listening to the other writers, what they choose for their topics, and how they write.”
I also told her to be mentally prepared—there will be a lot of writing and listening and critiquing. But I also said that some of the other writers, a few of whom I “knew” through Zoom calls in our writing classes, were wonderful people. They’re humble and open to learning and growing. I reassured her that the entire group would be awesome—it’s just the vibe at Writing Class Radio.
As soon as she arrived
Despite my encouragement, in the first few days of the retreat, feelings of fraudster-dom had swallowed Mariana up.
When she first told me this while we were in Norway, she said, “Claire. I had to literally Google ‘how to write a personal essay’ at the airport! I had no idea how to structure an essay or what to write.” She laughed at how ridiculous she felt, but it made me realize that her fraudster feelings started before she even reached the house.
As soon as she got to the retreat, she thought, What. Am. I. Doing. Here.
Unlike the other writers, Mariana didn’t have a chance to come prepared with an essay. Like a child forgetting their homework at school, it immediately dawned on her that she had nothing to work on during the writing sessions.
In tears, she called her boyfriend and said she wanted to go home. He calmed her down and after hanging up, she felt a tiny bit better.
While she may not have the knowledge to write like the other people in the house, she thought, “I’m at a gorgeous beach house in Key Largo with a bunch of very nice strangers—life could be worse.” 😆
Feeling a sense of purpose
When they weren’t writing, Mariana had conversations with the other writers. Whenever she saw people cleaning up or setting up for meals or activities, she jumped in to help. As a certified yoga instructor, Mariana also somehow ended up teaching yoga to the group each day.
It was her way of pitching in, and in her words, “to not feel completely useless.”
I realized that for Mariana (and for other people who have ever experienced imposter syndrome in certain settings), it wasn’t just about the writing stuff. It was also about being able to engage with the other people in the house and feeling helpful.
The first time I…
Then, at each writing session, she tried her best to write. As she put it, “The words did not flow.” She eeked out a few hundred words and felt mostly stuck.
She listened to the other writers read their essays and it started to sink in—what parts of their lives they chose to focus on, what made it interesting, why it mattered.
In one session, the prompt was “The first time I…”
Mariana wrote about her first time eating an edible. When she listened to what others wrote—about trauma and hardships, she immediately regretted the topic she chose. What would they think of her story—the first time she took an edible? How stupid.
But after she shared her story, she noticed the smiles and laughter. They thought it was fascinating and wanted to know more.
Feeling worthy
Even if you’re self-aware enough to recognize imposter syndrome, it’s impossible to “talk yourself” out of feeling it. It’s like going through a breakup and reminding yourself not to feel sad. Something needs to happen in order for that sadness to start to disappear—maybe it’s time, perhaps it’s dating a rebound, or meeting with a therapist.
For Mariana, her feelings of unworthiness began to melt away after forming connections, sharing her yoga practice, and reading her edibles essay.
After she told me the whole story, I was so proud of her. I admire Mariana’s ability to dive into unfamiliar situations but also notice when she feels uncomfortable. She was able to recognize when she freaked out and took small steps to reflect on it.
She wants to continue writing and sometimes joins First Draft (when she’s not in one of her zillion meetings for work) to practice jotting down her stories.
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