Celebrate Your Way to Self-Trust: How Imposter Syndrome Hides in Plain Sight
Let’s start with the facts. “Imposter Syndrome” gets tossed around a lot, but sometimes what we’re calling it… isn’t actually it. Not gonna lie, I used to say I had it too—until I realized I wasn’t just doubting myself. I was downright dismissing myself.
How do you know it’s really imposter syndrome?
👉 You write two whole blog posts about it, unpack your lived experience, and then boom — you’re back writing a third because the inner “Chilindrina” won’t shut up.
So yeah. I might know what I’m talking about. 😂
What It Is... and What It's Not
Imposter Syndrome
Persistent fear of being exposed as a fraud.
Attributing success to external forces (luck)
Turns evidence of success into anxiety
Self-Doubt
Occasional uncertainty about ability
Can still credit your own skills
Can incorporate success as confidence data
“Imposter syndrome hijacks your interpretation of evidence — you have the success, but your brain says you don’t deserve it.” — Psychology Today
Well, shit! Whoever wrote that just saw my soul.
Because yes, I have awards. Milestones. A whole-ass LinkedIn resume. And yet?
I’m over here like, “I’m just doing my job. My passion. NBD, right?”
Nah, bestie. That’s imposter syndrome talk. And I’m done sugarcoating it.
Meet La Chilindrina: My Inner Chavala Jodida
Cartoon-style illustration of a mischievous young Latina girl with curly hair in red bows, clear glasses, and green overalls, holding a slingshot in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. She’s winking with a big grin in a school hallway, radiating playful rebel energy.
At the Women Veteran Leadership Program, we had the brilliant Rosi Greenberg speak on a topic that hit way too close to home: the inner critic.
She’s the author of Everyone Has a Sam: Meeting the Inner Critic and Rewriting the Rules — and let me tell you, that session cracked something open in me.
She challenged us to name our inner critic.
And honestly? That took me months. I didn’t want her to be some scary Pennywise-type. I wanted something playful — someone I could actually talk back to without needing an exorcism. 😅
So who did I land on?
La Chilindrina — from El Chavo del Ocho.
Precocious. Prankster. Attention-seeking. And lowkey shady. Not creepy… just chaotically fun in a way I can roast without guilt.
Every time she pops up with that classic side-eye energy, I hit her with my version of “go fly a kite”:
“Shut up and dance.”
Because if she’s gonna be loud, she might as well have rhythm. 💃
What Actually Helps You Overcome Imposter Syndrome
CELEBRATION!
Yep. The thing that makes my skin crawl, and my brain scream “run and hide!”
Let me be real: any kind of celebration of me makes me want to disappear into a corner and pretend I’m a chair. Like… nothing to see here, folks. Just part of the furniture. 🪑😅
And despite what Aries stereotypes might say, I don’t actually crave the spotlight. Yes, I’ve got fire. Yes, I can be loud and bold — especially at work — but outside of that?
Digital illustration of a Latina woman journaling at a baseball field, wearing glasses and headphones, seated solo in the stands with a focused expression. She’s calmly observing the game while staying in her introverted, productive zone
👀 I’m the introvert reading a book at the bar.
📚 I’m the one at the game sitting quietly while everyone else yells.
😶 I will not make eye contact or initiate small talk if I don’t know you. I outsource that to my husband, thank you very much.
But when I do get acknowledged? I spiral. My brain starts asking:
· Was that too braggy?
· Do they think I’m stuck-up?
· Am I una creída?
· Did I say the right thing? (Cue replaying the conversation 87 times in my head, with 87 different scenarios…)
That anxiety? Very real.
But here’s what I’ve realized…
Celebration Is the Antidote to Imposter Syndrome
Latina woman smiling radiantly in a celebration setting with confetti falling around her. She holds a crystal Founder’s Award and wears a vibrant dress and bold lipstick, capturing a moment of pride, power, and professional joy.
And no — I don’t mean that performative, “look at me!” energy.
I’m talking about intentional, embodied, soul-fed celebration.
Celebrating myself isn’t about ego — it’s about evidence.
Even if it feels awkward. Even if I want to hide behind a cafecito and pretend it’s not happening.
Like Tim McGraw said:
“Dance like no one’s watching.”
(Because ideally… they’re not. 😂)
Here’s the science-y truth: if you don’t pause to mark the win, your brain skips right over it and starts scanning for the next threat. 🙃
That’s just how the nervous system rolls.
And let’s be clear — celebration doesn’t have to be splashy.
I’ve got a touchdown dance I only break out at home with my little fam. No stage lights, no Instagram Live — just joy in its purest form.
And when I do share wins publicly? It’s strategic.
Like that time I won the Founder’s Award at work. (Still shook, btw.) 🏆
Yes, I posted about it — but not to say “Look at me!”
I turned it into a LinkedIn resume tip post like the ✨veteran coach that I am✨.
So instead of “Congrats!” I wanted to hear:
“Dang, that’s a great resume tip.” 💼💡
Because that’s my lane: celebrating loud enough to be proud, but quiet enough to stay aligned.
Why We Avoid Celebration (Especially as Women, Veterans, and First-Gens)
Or let me rephrase:
Why I avoided it for so long.
Let’s name it. We were taught to be:
Humble
Grateful (not greedy)
Team players (not stars)
Seen, not praised
Which turns into:
“Don’t take up too much space.”
“Don’t make others uncomfortable.”
“Te ves más bonita calladita.”
That last one? Makes my blood boil.
Because let’s be honest — some people don’t want you to celebrate because your glow makes them squint.
Your confidence triggers their unhealed stuff. Your power feels like a threat to the roles they expect you to play.
But guess what?
Shrinking yourself to be digestible doesn’t make you more worthy — it just makes you less visible to your own damn self.
And that ain’t it.
Also, newsflash to the haters: Your discomfort isn’t my responsibility.
Do your own healing, mi gente.
And if I’m too bright?
Put on some sunglasses.
Punto! 🕶️✨
My Real-Life Celebration Practice (Cringe and All)
Here’s how I’m rewiring my brain, one awkward celebration at a time:
Confident Latina woman in a vibrant yellow crochet dress standing with hands on hips, smiling proudly in a bright, plant-themed home office. She wears clear glasses, bold red lipstick, and natural curls, radiating self-trust and joyful energy.
1. I say “Thank you.”
No deflecting. No jokes. No return compliments. Just:
“Thanks. I’m proud of that too.” And like a wise woman once said: Tits up!
Shoulders back. Chin high. Own it.
(Only time I’ll allow “fake it ‘til you make it.” Posture only.)
2. I screenshot kind words.
Welcome to my Hype Folder — also known as digital therapy for emergency self-doubt spirals.
I will 1000% go back to that LinkedIn post and reread the comments until my brain finally lets the truth stick. 😭
3. I reflect weekly.
Journaling. Voice notes. 5-minute brain dumps.
✨ Pro tip:
If you ever have to write your own performance review or help your boss craft your PR (hello military besties), this practice will save your life.
Write it now — so they don’t forget how ✨badass✨ you are when it’s time for raises and promotions.
4. I share wins.
Not to brag — to normalize joy.
Because if I can do it, so can you.
And it’s not just about me.
I do this with my family too. My husband, my son — we all share our “win of the day.”
Especially after our son’s baseball games.
Even if they lose, we talk about what went right, what he did well — and what he wants to work on.
It’s not about being perfect. It’s about building a habit of seeing yourself clearly.
Final Word (and a Loving Push)
You’re not a fraud. You’re a force.
Your success isn’t luck. It’s yours.
So if your Chilindrina still whispers, “You don’t belong here”?
Whisper back:
“I built this space. And I brought my own damn glitter.” 🎉
📌 Quick Note (Because We Keep It Real Here)
I’m not a therapist, psychologist, or doctor — and I don’t pretend to be. Everything I share is rooted in my lived experience. Please consult a licensed professional for personalized support.
If you're in crisis, call 911 or contact the 988 Lifeline. You're not alone. Real help exists, and you deserve it.
