Do I deserve him?

a romantic with imposter syndrome and the stories we tell ourselves

Q.

hello olivia!

i (25) am (exclusively) dating a man (28) who is intimidatingly smart. we began seeing each other in december after both exiting relationships, mine short term and his long term. he is extremely articulate, well-read, emotionally intelligent, and naturally analytical in a way that blows me away. he is also just a very fully realized person with a great job, creative with great taste, loves his family, attractive, wonderful lover, funny, etc.

i admire him and he reminds me of the sort of person i want to be. but i’m recognizing all the ways that i’ve been lazy intellectually/academically in my adult life. also, i am fearful that i lack the emotional maturity to work through my insecurities and trust issues. he has experienced a lot of life and love and lovers and i find myself needing to make peace with that and fighting all sorts of jealousy.

i have strong feelings for him and i would like to continue seeing him into a full fledged relationship. he is, in many ways, the person i have been expressing a longing for for years.

i know that i am an intelligent and similarly vibrant, multi-faceted, and experienced person. i simply have never felt so in awe of a man before, especially one that i am romantically involved with who expresses desire to know and experience me. maybe i’ve only dated men who in some way pale in comparison to me and that’s what i’ve gotten comfortable with. i don’t know. this is the first time i have ever felt threatened by the overall prowess of a lover and it has caused me to reevaluate every part of myself. i can’t tell if this is 100% a good thing, but i do feel like i have growth in this process.

i find that i’ve installed a projection of him in my mind to critique my own academic and creative work (i’m in grad school and love to write) which is probably a net negative experience. him and i have also discussed my struggles at length, which ive never done before in the first couple months of a relationship. he wants to understand me and help me work through my roadblocks! (i am considering going back to therapy and he just started therapy a couple weeks ago)

anyways, i think i’ve given enough context. let me know if you want more. my questions are as follows: how do you deal with feeling intimidated/bested by a lover? should i attempt to banish or befriend the him in my head? how might i dispel the notion that i’m falling behind and will never measure up to him / the person i want to be?

thank you olivia :)

-IR

Marina Abramović and Ulay in Rest Energy.

A.

Dear IR,

You’re experiencing a version of imposter syndrome. It’s hard to recognize because the most familiar setting for imposter syndrome is within a professional opportunity, and is mobilized by the belief that at some point, every one will figure out that you don’t deserve to be there. It seems outlandish that we could feel like this in vulnerable dynamics with other people, where our inner selves are presumably on full display and thus, there is no risk of being “exposed” for our lack of qualification. Besides, what is an imposter in a relationship, anyway? Unless you’re John Meehan, whose literal title beneath his name on Google is con artist (I kind of think that’s cool), how can you possibly fake your way into love? But alas, the beautiful thing about being a person is that we can feel like frauds anywhere.

Lately I have been trying to stay away from reductive pop-psychology that insists on reducing our intricate emotional landscapes into like, four categories that we then tout as our defining traits. There was a period in my life where I would have proudly told someone at a party that I am an anxiously attached, Pisces sun and Scorpio moon, chaotic good, 4 on the Enneagram, who prefers words of affirmation and physical touch. These days, I am challenging myself to understand who I am rather than allow myself to be defined. It makes me feel more elastic, mutable, human. But god, it can be satisfying to look at some fucking chart and be like, THAT’S ME. Anyway, this is becoming irrelevant. I am saying this because I am about to severely oversimplify the human condition and I want you to know that generally, I advise against doing that.

I tend to believe that almost everything we do is either as a result of the thing that came before (a reaction) or as a result of a story we have told ourselves about who we are or what we deserve. We most often see this play out in romantic dynamics. We date people who are nothing like our previous partners or we date people who confirm a narrative we’ve decided must be true. This isn’t always a bad thing! It can be a huge sign of growth if your next partner is nothing like your last, especially if your last didn’t wash his ass in the shower. It is an occasion worth celebrating when we decide that the story we are telling ourselves is one of empowerment and self-love, and our romantic choices reflect that.

Your situation looks like a little bit of all of the above. It sounds to me like you felt safe in previous dynamics where, in a number of ways, you weren’t challenged. We’ve all done this—it feels good to be right. But at some point, some part of you decided that the time had come to end that pattern. Somewhere in your maze of brain, you decided that you were ready to meet your match. So naturally, you found someone who exceeded this criteria in every way possible, which is often what happens when we react. It’s a pendulum swing rather than a nudge. But now, faced with this unfamiliar dynamic, you’ve resorted to telling yourself stories about your intelligence, your capability, and your emotional maturity (or supposed lack thereof).

What is the antidote to insecurity? Please don’t punch me in the face when I say this, but I wonder if it’s gratitude. Is it possible that we could reframe our own myths by dedicating ourselves to seeing what’s bountiful rather than what we believe is scarce?

What if we said: Wow, my partner is so brilliant. I am so grateful that I’m with a person who I admire in this way, rather than, Wow, my partner is so brilliant. Am I brilliant enough for them?

Furthermore, what if our gratitude included us?

What if we said: Wow, my partner and I are both so dedicated to learning about the world. We are lucky to have found one another. Rather than, Wow, my partner is so dedicated to learning about the world. Am I dedicated enough for them?

A relationship is not a hierarchical job, it is a collaboration. One person is not solely responsible (or capable, for that matter) for teaching the other. If your partner has a trait that you admire and want to emulate, that isn’t a sign of what you lack. It just means you are lucky enough to be dating a person who contributes to your growth, rather than whittles away at it. It also means that you are open to growing, which is a testament to your emotional maturity in and of itself. If your partner is equally dedicated to their own growth, they too will notice things about you that they admire and want to emulate. If the relationship is truly collaborative, you will come to know that you are not the only person who needs a little help.

I must admit, when I first read your letter, I wondered if some part of this story of unworthiness is being told to you by the person you’re dating. I hear that, in so many words, you’re saying this is not the case. But come with me while I honor this small worry, won’t you? Just in case it’s helpful, even a little bit.

There are many ways that people can contribute to our feelings of unworthiness, and most often it’s through passive cues rather than declarative insults. Has anyone ever asked if you’ve read a certain book and when you said no they twisted their face all crazy and said, What?! You’ve NEVER read that book? Or sometimes it’s even less overt. Sometimes, it’s a person who receives compliments rather than gives them. Sometimes, it’s a person who will allow you to talk at length about your own faults instead of challenging what you’re saying, or meeting you with empathy. Sometimes the people who make us feel most unworthy, are the ones who sit back and watch as we read ourselves a bedtime story called I’m a Fucking Loser and when we’re finished they say, Sleep tight! And then they turn off the light.

If any of this resonates, I encourage you to take a closer look at the assignments you’re giving yourself. Is this man interrupting your stories with validation? Or is he using your negative self-talk as an opportunity to evade self-reflection?

Remember: This man, no matter how many books he’s read or lovers he’s had, has not met his final form. Just like you.

You have something to teach him, too. You are not the only one being chosen.

It is a beautiful, and all too rare, thing to admire our partners. I’m fucking tired of seeing Instagram anniversary posts that are like, “Happy five years, you moron. You still don’t know how to do your laundry, but I love you.” And before your brain goes, But what if I’m the moron!!!! You are NOT.

But here is what you are: extremely articulate, well-read, emotionally intelligent, naturally analytical, fully realized, creative with great taste, loves your family, attractive, wonderful lover, funny, etc.

Those are words you used to describe him. Now use them to describe yourself, too.

Love,

Olivia in a small house