We’re doing something differently this week. I’d like to introduce you to a guest poster, Nic. Nic was one of the first folks to experience the Heroine’s Adventure. She wants to talk to you about Imposter Syndrome (I could talk to you about Imposter Syndrome, but I’d have to fight my Imposter Syndrome telling me that I know nothing about Imposter Syndrome. Man, Imposter Syndrome is exhausting!)
It’s me,
hi,
I’m the problem, it’s me.
I’m on stage at the Bush Hall in London. The heat of the spotlight is burning into my forehead, and I’m trapped in a small circle of light, where the anticipation of a full house slowly inches itself around me. The grip on my guitar neck tight, my curled fingers dig into the strings. My heart is thumping, and I am afraid that the microphone will pick it up. Two verses into my second song and I can already feel my mind detaching. I wish I’d worn the suede dress, I would feel so much better in the suede dress. I look around at the cavernous hall. At the high dusty chandeliers that, back in the day, would have lit the room so warmly for the elegant couples waltzing their woes away. At the weary red carpet, once bold and bright, now muted by the endless processions of stomps and shuffles. Neglected reminders of how things used to be.
I tell myself to focus and lock into the song’s 3/4 time signature—my right foot taps along, which is enough to steady my mind for now. I stare into the dark sea of bodies facing me and think how different this is from performing in Dundee, where, if you’re lucky, there are five or six or seven people to watch and listen. I’m blinded by the lights, but I know there must be hundreds of them out there. Rows upon rows of shadowed shapes, lurking like wild beasts. I can almost hear them, snarling, and spitting, their hungry tongues and beady eyes watching my every move. I’ve never needed my mind to focus more than I do now. I beg it, plead with it to stay sharp and not abandon me when I need it most. To focus on my breath. The feeling of the nickel-wound strings hard against my fingers. The tone of my voice. The delivery of my words. This is my moment, my opportunity to invite the people of London into my world, to give them my voice, my words, my perspective of being human in this fleeting existence. To sing to people who go to gigs and venues like this on weeknights to see the likes of Lily Allen and Courtney Marie Andrews and Florence and the Machine with those long floaty dresses and vocals that cut through the air with clarity and emotion and… Wait a minute.
What am I doing here? Why am I up here on this stage pretending that this is who I am? That this is what I do? I know he asked me to join him on his tour, but he must have felt sorry for me. He couldn’t like my music. In fact, he probably needed a token female because most of his bandmates are guys, and speaking of guys, look at this audience - it’s mostly men, and they all look like, hold up, that guy in the front with the denim jacket on? He’s looking at the ceiling, and I’m sure the guy beside him just exhaled a long breath of disgust. Oh my god, I must be boring them. These guys are here to see a legend, a God they’ve followed for years whose songs they know every word to, whose songs remind them of who they were before life’s snare caught and twisted them into people they never planned to be. I don’t belong here. I can’t do this. Oh my god I bet they all hate women, I bet they all play guitar better than me. I bet they’re wondering how the hell I got this gig, I feel like such an idiot, I can’t do this, oh my god, what’s the next chord? Shit, that’s not it, what’s the chord Nic? What’s the goddamned chord?
Nothing.
I swallow, and the mic picks it up. My hands don’t work. My fingers fumble, but I can’t find it. It’s gone. Erased indefinitely from the memory of my touch. I look out into the hall, as if by some miracle I’ll find my chord shape hovering out there like a projected hologram in the distance. But everything has become hazy, and the darkness is closing in, and I feel every pair of cold eyes piercing into me. It’s just a matter of time before the beasts pounce.
Then it begins. My mind slowly detaches itself from my body, drifting upwards like a balloon towards the high ornate cornice, where it hovers and leers at me from its disembodied perspective. And there I stand on the stage, little me, with my mouth hinged open, my shoulders hunched, and my eyes wide. Uncomfortable shuffles come from below. A distant cough from the back foyer. And, just like clockwork, my age-old narrative begins. This time, the only difference is in the power of the voices thundering down upon me from my monstrous demon mind above.
“See! Told you so.”
“Told you you didn’t belong here.”
“Who do you think you are?”
“You’ll never make it in this life,”
“You’re nothing but pathetic.”
“Pathetic!”
“I always knew you’d mess it up.”
“Do us all a favour and go home.”
Imposter Syndrome is awful.
Despite the fact that I eventually found my chord and finished my song and set, and received positive feedback, afterwards I spiraled into 48 hours of self-inflicted mental torture. I switched off my phone and retreated under my duvet, debilitated by my inner narrative. This isn’t new to me. I’ve lived with Imposter Syndrome all my life, but for it to cripple me during such an important gig felt like the ultimate betrayal. When I eventually stopped rerunning the experience over and over in my mind like a film trailer stuck on repeat, I knew I had to make an important decision:
1. to never put myself into a vulnerable experience like that again.
2. commit to changing my mindset about my abilities and worth.
Number 1 wasn’t an option for me—I love music, and although I find performing terrifying, it’s something my heart needs to do. So I chose number 2, and fortunately, this decision coincided with an invitation to take a new course called The Heroine’s Adventure. Fast-forward eight weeks, and I found myself equipped with the tools and skills to slay this inner demon once and for all!
So what did The Heroine’s Adventure do for me that other approaches I’d taken to conquer imposter syndrome hadn’t?
Firstly, it allowed me to view my life as a story with myself as the central character. Looking through the lens of an author allowed me to realise that the protagonist (me) had a very important character arc to journey through: the transition from being governed by her inner critic to being championed by her inner cheerleader. I’d be lying if I told you this journey is easy. It’s not. It’s a journey I’m still on, but I can feel the benefits and see true results. I know my investment of time is paying off.
What has this journey involved?
Unearthing the truth
I had to sit with the uncomfortable truth that my imposter syndrome had crept into every area of my life — from my job and relationships to my music and writing. I was never good enough, was stupid, would always be found out, and could never articulate myself properly. People would become bored of me. People wouldn’t like me; if I spoke, I would always just be stating the obvious and never adding any value. The ‘ordinary world’ exercise in The Heroine’s Adventure made this painfully clear. This was tough and frustrating because somewhere deep down inside of me, I also knew that I was smart and creative and had many valuable ideas and gifts to offer. I felt as though there were two voices inside of me, always in conflict: one that was a bully and one that was bullied.
Re-storying the lies
The Heroine’s Adventure then revealed to me that most of my inner critic’s narrative had been based on lies that I believed about myself, rooted in childhood experiences and ingrained in my memory. I focused on re-storying these lies by using positive memories to contradict the lies of my inner critic.
The Pivotal Shift
That awful experience of dissociated stage fright at the Bush Hall? That was my pivotal shift, the point in my journey that The Heroine’s Adventure taught me to view as not a disaster but a challenge, an opportunity to change something. The course encouraged me to journal about my experience (what happened, how it made me feel, what people said and didn’t say to me afterward) and to become curious about my inner critical voice (whose voice was it and what was it trying to keep me safe from?). During this exercise, I realised that the pain of living with my inner critic and allowing it to prevent me from reaching my potential and doing the things I desperately longed to do heavily outweighed the pain of sitting with it and changing it.
Becoming a Choice Agent
The Heroine’s Adventure then empowered me to make a series of decisions that would help me successfully transition through this character arc:
I researched books to read and ordered them from the library and Amazon
I spoke to friends about the experience and got their perspective
I implemented ways to be kinder to myself by changing my inner dialogue and journal entries. Instead of focusing on the things I wasn’t good at, I focused on what I was good at. Instead of talking negatively to myself, I started talking gently and kindly to myself, almost as if I were talking to an animal or child. I started and ended each day with positive messages and actions.
I ramped up my self-care and carved out time daily to do nice things for myself.
My ‘Ultimate Why’
One of my favourite exercises of the Heroine’s Adventure was unearthing my ‘ultimate whys.’ This exercise allowed me to understand the real motivation behind my need to slay my inner critic, which was all about reaching my potential. This incentivized me to commit to my journey and do the work.
Finding my Tribe
The Heroine’s Adventure taught me to identify and reveal various archetypes within myself and others. I formed a tribe of helpful characters to support my journey through my character arc. This involved recognising different strengths in friends and family members and was particularly helpful in showing me that my inner critic was just one ‘shadow’ among a whole group of allies, mentors, and heralds.
Creating My Treasure Bag
Finally, The Heroine’s Adventure showed me how to create the perfect treasure bag of resources for my journey. I discovered that in order to conquer my quest, I would need daily deposits of time, energy, skills, and passion, and I invested them in my journey of researching, reading, journaling, and forming new habits.
I know this sounds like a lot of work but I can assure you that, for me, this work has paid off significantly. I’ve performed four gigs since the Bush Hall gig and have had entirely different experiences. In fact, I’ve even started to have fun being on stage. I’m not fully there yet. Whenever I meet someone new or go on a date, my inner critic usually shows up in some way or form, but the most significant difference I experience is in the volume and intensity of that inner voice. It’s now more of a whisper than a roar. And every time my inner critic finds something negative to poke at, my inner cheerleader bursts in from the wing, with her red pom poms and high kicks, to ask, “is that really true? Or is this a lie that you tell yourself?”
What I find incredibly interesting is that the more people I speak to about my experiences of imposter syndrome, the more I hear that they, too, suffer from similar experiences. Even more interestingly, the people who identify with this are typically people whom I admire, respect, and feel drawn towards. They’re usually highly driven, ambitious, confident, and caring.
My Elixir
Every great journey results in elixirs. The Heroine’s Adventure has shown me how to recognise these elixirs, celebrate them, and share them with others. My gift to you, reader, is to share what I’ve discovered on this imposter syndrome slaying journey that could be useful to you. The first is a book by Timothy Gallway called ‘The Inner Game of Music.’ It’s filled with wonderful mindfulness exercises that focus the mind so much that there’s simply no room for the inner critic to sneak in. The book is part of a wider series called The Inner Game, which is a great collection of resources for anyone involved in performance-related activities who is facing barriers to reaching optimal potential (link below).
The second, if you’ve not guessed already, is a nudge for you to explore the magical realms of The Heroine’s Adventure yourself and embark on a journey of self-discovery where you’ll be empowered to become the author and the heroine of your own life story. In all attempts to rid myself of unhelpful inner dialogue, the Heroine’s Adventure handed me the golden key to unlock this paradox within me.
First time visiting Call for Heroines? What we offer…
Free weekly journal prompts to help you get UNSTUCK.
Paid Members enjoy:
Monthly group coaching call
Exciting quarterly heroine quests. We use the power of story structure to uncover hidden insights and actionable solutions. Make 2025 an adventure with the following quests:
Mining for Magic: Transform from "I don't know what to change" to "I understand completely what I need to fix."
Ultimate Whys: Transform from "I'm not sure why I do what I do" to "I know exactly what guides my life and decisions."
Embrace Your Inner Archetypes: Transform from “I’m not sure who I am” to “I know exactly who I need to be right now.”
Overcoming Imposter Syndrome: Transform from "I don't think I belong here" to "I am a vital part of this community."
The Heroine’s Adventure. It’s Life-Planning. But forget those humdrum life plans (you know, the one behind your yoga mat wrestling with the dust bunnies under your bed). In this course, you’ll create a Heroine's Map packed with vibrant, dynamic journeys linked directly to your soul's deepest desires. How? Using the secrets of personal transformation hidden in the structure of stories and myths. Inspired by the timeless Hero's Journey and Heroine's Journey, our course turns personal development and life planning into an exciting narrative where you are the star. You will examine and reconcile your past, fix the lies that you believe, document your ordinary world, create your Heroine’s Compass and your Soul Motto, uncover your Ultimate Whys, and learn to implement tools and skills that will set you on the path to finding your extraordinary life. Learn More Here.
Speaking & Private Coaching: Send me an email at lisacabrelli@gmail.com
Well, this opened a light ~ it is very interesting for me as I too can relate to the imposter. I’m glad to have a name for this inner critic. It is well written. I am new here on Substack. Thanks for sharing! It’s inspiring and has me curious for creative ways to improve myself. Much joy to you on your journey.