The Specter of Impostor Syndrome

From haunted to harmony

I write to you this week from the first place I remember calling home: Maui, HI.

Hard life, right?

There is so much I could say about the gift of being raised by this place and its people. But today I want to share just one snippet of my experience of returning home, and how it is slowly transforming my writing life.

As a child, I could never have dreamed up my homestead wannabe lifestyle in rural-adjacent suburban Idaho. I wouldn’t have pictured homeschooling my children, wrestling with bioethical questions, and I definitely never would have expected I’d be doing so as a Catholic.

But I might have imagined myself as an author.

When I was 13, a short story I wrote placed second in the Maui Writer’s Conference. As a reward, the group of winners got to attend for free (and sleepover in the aquarium at the Maui Ocean Center, sharks passing overhead as we slept beneath). We got to attend many sessions on the craft and business of writing—including one session by the writers of the screenplay for the movie Crash. I’m not sure I remember much more than that, to be honest.

But I do recall standing in the the hustle and bustle of all these professional writers bouncing between sessions. As a child who loved nothing more than she adored books, I was in awe, and I harbored the secret dream of becoming one of them someday. One day, I would be an author.

Having recently stood on that same spot invited my to reinhabit my 13-year-old self just long enough to realize that her secret dream is still the whisper of my heart:

One day, you will be an author.

My 13-year-old self looks at me with disbelief and pity. She sees that this secret desire has shifted, become something malevolent, and stolen the gratitude that belongs to her.

Technically, I am an author. I have two books out, one self-published and one by a Catholic publisher. I have two on the way coming out next spring. 13-year-old me would have exploded with joy to know that this day was on the horizon.

Her gaze is humbling, and I stand chastised. I am grateful for this visitor, my ghost of ambitions past. But as she departs, she leaves me wondering about the ghost of ambitions present that remains in her wake: will this Specter of Impostor Syndrome every go away?

If you are likewise haunted by this harrowing figure, you have my solidarity. Maybe yours whispers that your Substack only counts when you reach a certain number of readers, or that you are not a “real” writer unless you publish an article, a book, make the bestseller list. Here is the truth: if you write, you are a writer. Period. No external validation or metrics necessary.

But I can tell you from experience, that once you cross his imaginary goalpost, the Specter will just drag it further away (is that the right metaphor? Apologies to my football-obsessed parents for never fully absorbing your enthusiasm or basic comprehension of the lingo).

Or maybe it isn’t just moving the goalposts. Maybe he is a she, wearing Lucy’s blue dress as she gives Charlie Brown her sincere promise that this time will be different, and she won’t yank the football out from under his foot as kicks. I certainly hear her cackle as I attempt various kicks in my writing, only to miss entirely and find myself laying in the dirt wondering how I could have fallen for her wiles once again.

For me, this looks like chasing the rabbit trails of my varied interests—blogging about homeschooling, bringing the prayerful insights of parenthood to life through story, musing on God’s revelations in the garden, typing furious cultural criticism about everything from reproductive technologies to abortion to genetic editing. And every time I hit a rhythm or publish a piece I find meaningful, Lucy flounces by in her blue dress, and pulls the football out from under me.

She tells me that no one will be interested in reading what I have to say, and that I need to pick a lane and stay in it. This point is very important, I think, because she is constantly telling me that what matters to me and what I have to say (ultimately, the words I believe God made me to speak into the world) cannot fit in one container. These things cannot all fit together.

Pick a lane.

Be less than you are.

Be this. Be that. Be anything other than what God made you to be.

One year ago, I attended the Blessed Is She retreat, and the word I received, not 5 minutes into the conference was harmony.

The beautiful about harmony is that it weaves in and out. It isn’t the melody, and the more harmonies that come into the song, the more lovely it all is when it comes together.

I am sorry, dear readers, that I have not fully figured out how all of this fits together, but thank you for accompanying me on the journey as I learn to harmonize these passions. I haven’t fully figured out how I will use this space, despite many previous assertions. I do believe that God wastes none of it.

I am thinking of expressing it this way: Samantha Stephenson writes on faith, family, and the future of being human.

Nice, right? I think so, too—or at least I will, until Lucy pulls the football out from under me again.

AMDG,

Samantha

Around the Web

A look at where my work has taken root lately—articles, interviews, and conversations in the wild world of the internet.

Articles and Essays:

• The Egg Freezing Indusctr’s False Promises at Public Discourse

• Ignatian Wisdom for Moms at CatholicMom

• Cultivating the Garden of Our Souls at Blessed Is She

• Not new, but garnering a lot of attention: RFK and the Silencing of Debate at Crisis

Podcast Interviews:

• Catholic Momcast: Mom Hacks

A couple of announcements:

1. In an effort to harmonize, I have renamed this Substack Slow Motherhood and pulled my author updates under this umbrella. They will be separate sections, so feel free to unsubscribe from the Slow Motherhood content if you only want author updates. The bioethics stuff will remain a separate publication—for now.

2. The new season of Brave New Us: Being Human in the Age of Biotechnology (same podcast, new subtitle) is rolling out. If you are interested in these topics, so far we have covered:

• Pronatalism and the New Eugenics Startups in Silicon Valley with Emma Waters

• Reversing Autoimmune Disease with Stem Cells with Dr. Richard Burt

• The Alternative to IVF No One Is Talking about with Grace Emily Stark (except now the head of the American Society of Reproductive Medicine is talking about—and she’s out for blood. IVF makes a pretty penny, and we wouldn’t want to give that up, now would we?)

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Books: Mama Prays | Reclaiming Motherhood from a Culture Gone Mad
Podcast: Brave New Us: Being Human in the Age of Biotechnology
Web: www.snstephenson.com