Imposter Syndrome's Role in The Creative Process
Creative practice is parts work practice, & other IFS-inspired musings
A year ago, I signed my first book deal for an IFS-focused self-help book for complex trauma recovery.
As I write this post, I'm about halfway through the book, and have already learned so much by revisiting the concepts and theories that inform my clinical practice as a licensed therapist. What I wasn't expecting to revisit, however, were all the parts of me that harbor beliefs of inadequacy when it comes to taking on such a project. Imposter syndrome has infiltrated my writing process full force, to the point where I struggle with procrastination, second-guess myself, and dread the writing sessions I squeeze in my my newborn son's nap windows.
For creatives who have experienced trauma, creative outlets can be powerful anchors in trauma recovery.
Creative outlets function as metabolizing forces and externalizing tools. By shaping narratives of our histories, we gain ownership of our stories. By painting scenes from our backgrounds, we can re-imagine our past. Artistry supports autonomy after autonomy has been displaced through traumatic experiences of violation, injustice, and dismissal. This makes sense when we consider the archetype of the tortured artist who seeks meaning and knowing by immersing themselves in their craft.
When we immerse ourselves in the creative process, we also immerse ourselves in the inner world and all of the parts to be found there. If our parts carry burdens from our traumas, then our traumas will resurface in our creative work and our parts will activate in our creative practices.
How I've seen this play out in my writing process is through a part of me carrying a fear of being "found out." Imposter syndrome shows up with fears of inadequacy, but the root of imposter syndrome is profound shame around themes of unlovability. Growing up, I used my talents and intelligence to win the favor of my teachers, earn special privileges, and secure opportunities that launched me into a higher social strata.
Writing has always been my fairy godmother. It's catapulted me out of the childhood trauma of addiction, emotional neglect, and food scarcity and immersed me in a world where I felt wanted.
I remember the pride I felt when my third grade teacher wrote home about a short story I wrote in writing club, and the burst of confidence that descended upon me when I won a middle school-wide essay contest. These achievements ushered in academic scholarships, work recognition, and creative opportunities like landing this book deal. I'm grateful for my writing abilities and gift of communication. But in calling upon these gifts, I also make contact with the young girl who learned to get a lot of her attachment needs met through recognition of these gifts.
As a creatively gifted child, if you're not being told that you are special as you are, but you mainly hear that you're writing is special as it is, you internalize a belief that you aren't quite good enough.
You aren't lovable on your own and you're incomplete without the sparkle of your craft. You need to produce something or perform to secure attention. This fundamentally feeds fears of inadequacy and creates internal polarization. Protector parts that want recognition for their creativity as a way to secure love polarize with exiles who fear that they are unlovable. Validation of our creative gifts then deepens the inadequacy wound and propels the burden of imposter syndrome, resulting in a love/hate relationship with recognition.
This relationship gets further complicated when you consider how many creatives are deeply sensitive beings. I think sensitivity is inherent to creativity; you have to be receptive to the world around you to sublimate that world in your art work. Sensitivity can also lend itself to self doubt and a restlessness of spirit. Instead of feeling good about what you create, you overthink it and ruminate about how an audience will receive it.
When this disposition is situated in a person with a trauma history, we get serious internal resistance to chapters of the creative journey that ask us to confront public exposure. You may have experienced this yourself through letting a good story idea die or shelving your paint set in favor of more professional sensibilities. Maybe you're reading this with an itch in your spirit to start your own Substack, but a part of you revolts against the idea of being read.
What I've learned through my creative journey writing this book and managing a very public Instagram platform is that to have an audience is to inherently risk being "found out."
When we commit to being read, we commit to witnessing the parts of us that internalized fear-based negative beliefs about our creativity. That's the real finding out. It's not something someone does to you, it's something that you experience in confronting yourself.
In the same way that we offer attunement and sensitivity to our respective crafts as we embark on a creative endeavor, we must offer this patient noticing and gentle holding to the young parts of us who experienced their creativity getting entangled with their trauma.
Creative practice is parts work practice. We make contact with our parts as we sublimate our ideas on the page. We transform them when we have the courage to embody their wisdom and express their stories in our personal lives.
psst. Every third Sunday of the month, paid subscribers get access to a parts work practice. Consider becoming a paid subscriber to support the journal and access a new layer of parts work practices. Hint: if you are trying to upgrade your subscription, you can’t do it on the Substack app, it has to be through an Internet browser window. Thank you for your support! ~S
Other ways to connect with me & what sparks my interest:
Apply for IFS coaching & parts work mentorship — for folks in long-term addiction and trauma recovery. I have a few spots still open for springtime and I look forward to reading more about you <3
Sign up for The Embody Lab's Breathwork & Movement Therapy For Trauma Healing Program (starts 05/09 code SARAH for 10% off!)