Can I have imposter syndrome ABOUT imposter syndrome?

I hate when you tell a therapist something and she says, “OK, well, [logic logic logic], but also that’s definitely something we’ll continue working on.”

That’s Therapist for, “Gurl, you cray.”

Pfft. Like it’s so crazy to not believe you can even HAVE “imposter syndrome” because, “Well, it’s not a syndrome — all that stuff is just TRUE.” Honestly. Goddamn hippies. 🙄

(^ See, now, that’s a joke, ‘cause I KNOW that’s kinda fucked up, so please don’t think I’m serious, and then explain the syndrome, and then make me feel like I have imposter syndrome re: effective use of sarcasm.)

Come for frivolity, stay for…more frivolity.

I just admitted to not knowing about a particular political issue, and my brain kicked in with, “You know one day your friends are gonna realize how stupid you are and not be your friends anymore, right?”

*sigh* Yes, Brain. You’ve mentioned.

But also? Fuck you, Brain. My friends know I’m the Joey, and they love me anyway — no one’s expecting me to blow their mind with my thoughts on Hamas.

Respecting the boundaries of small talk

I told an OkCupid guy I’d gone to the Women’s Conference, and he wrote back asking what “the most inspiring takeaway” was.

The honest answers to this question are not suitable for the first few online dating messages.

1. No matter how crippling my imposter syndrome gets, I shouldn’t be afraid to speak, because chances are I’m NOT the stupidest person in a given room. (Though I still don’t believe that.)

2. We can put too much onto the ONE person in our paradigm of monogamous relationships, and it’s to be expected that we get different things from different people. I am not a slut or a bad person for getting those needs met, and I shouldn’t feel bad about it. (Though I still do.)

3. My knee-high black leather boots are better suited for your filthy sexual fantasies than for walking 6 miles at the Convention Center.