My kids love the game "Among Us" where an unknown person in the game is the "imposter" and runs around eliminating other players, while trying to keep their identity hidden. The rest of the players try to uncover the identity of the imposter before it's too late.

The first time I played this game, I thought I would be so good at it. Finally! A game I can excel at! After all, I feel like an imposter every single day, especially (but not exclusively) in my karate life. I had a totally different topic in mind for this month's blog post, but I'm changing directions on short notice here. I think maybe it's time to just address the elephant in the room and talk about Imposter Syndrome and self-doubt in general. So many conversations of late have circled around this topic. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.

I've heard it said many times from students and parents one of the reasons they started karate or put their kids in it was to build confidence. Do I agree karate is a good way to develop confidence? The short answer is yes, but the long answer is: it's complicated. It's not as linear as a straight line from point A to point B. I feel like it's a bit of a mixed bag of forward movement, some backtracking, and a few detours along the way. But those detours contain a lot of valuable lessons. Lessons that apply outside the dojo just as much as inside. I think everyone, young and old, can benefit from them.

The question you're undoubtedly wanting to ask me is: what has karate done for my confidence? The truth is it's been a bumpy ride and I've had ups and downs. As I've progressed, I've had this fear in the back of my mind that people think I'm better than I really am, but any day now, they'll figure out I'm clueless. I don't worry so much about it with my seniors, there is no fooling them, but my peers and more junior students especially have consistently over-praised my performance on the regular. Really, I'm just spirited and enthusiastic, and that goes a long way towards convincing people you're good at something.

This isn't a new feeling for me. I've had it my whole life, whether it was in school, in my career, and now in karate. Eventually people will figure out I'm clueless. So I may as well just confess it. That, my friends is classic Imposter Syndrome. There are different types of imposters, but I'm a combination of "The Natural Genius" and "The Superhuman" imposter. Basically I got accustomed to achievement coming relatively easily in my younger days and now when goals aren't so easily achieved I struggle to feel good enough. I also push myself harder than I'd expect of anyone else, and beyond a reasonable amount just to prove to myself I'm worthy. In my karate life that looks like feeling frustrated when I can't make my body do something I've tried a thousand times. It's wanting to train twice daily when sane mortals train three or four times a week. It's a little more complicated than that, as my need to train isn't only rooted in self-doubt, I also do it because it's just my favorite thing in the world to be doing. I think I'd still do it regardless of how good or bad I think I am. But you get my point. If I want to be good at something, I'm willing to go so overboard towards that goal even knowing I will probably never feel like I'm getting there. I fully acknowledge that not "feeling" good enough is not the same as not "being" good enough.

There is a very big difference between how I see myself and how others see me. In the last month, I've been told by a variety of people in my karate circle that they think I'm confident, strong, skilled, calm, patient, and a number of other descriptors that sound lovely. If you asked me if I'm any of those things I'd tell you I know how to fake some of them pretty well. But no, I wouldn't describe myself that way at all. I'd say I'm extremely insecure, awkward, ungraceful, anxious, loud, and occasionally obnoxious. But I try to hide all those things from most people. I don't want you to think I only see negatives in myself, I really do believe I have some great qualities too. I believe myself to be a decent student, teachable, open to constructive feedback, approachable, willing to help anyone that asks - teachers and students alike, a team player, generous with my time, encouraging, and empathetic. I think most people who know me would agree I'm also determined, dedicated, driven, stubborn, nerdy, and maybe a little obsessive. We've all got our strengths and weaknesses. Recognizing your own is a life skill that can serve you well in your quest to grow and evolve, both within karate and in the world in general. But a lot of us karateka are focused on self-critiquing and correcting ourselves so much, we sometimes forget to see the positives, and that's just as important.

I didn't start out lacking confidence in karate. A lot happens in the early days to build your confidence, initially. You test pretty frequently, and there is of course the tangible reward of earning a new belt with each promotion. Your confidence is boosted with each advancement. But the more senior you get, the less frequently these achievements come and you need to find other ways to gauge success and progress. Ironically, as I advanced and became more skilled, I reached a point where my confidence plummeted. I went from feeling reasonably decent to feeling inadequate overnight. Sadly it doesn't take much to lose confidence in the blink of an eye, but it takes a whole lot more to rebuild it.

It seems everyone has some kind of crisis of confidence somewhere along their karate journey. That's actually pretty normal, and I've started to observe it in others. Some folks have talked to me in private, and sometimes we talk about it in class. I really enjoy Sensei Glenn's description of the four stages of competence. We all start in a state of unconscious incompetence. It's easy to be confident when you are unaware of your lack of proficiency. As we move into more intermediate ranks there is a shift into a state of conscious incompetence. We start to recognize our lack of proficiency and this can be a blow to one's ego. As we continue on the journey and get more senior, we move into a state of conscious competence where we can demonstrate proficiency with effort, and confidence builds again over time until we (hopefully) eventually reach the ultimate state of unconscious competence, where we are naturally proficient.

So it's pretty predictable most of us will go through this at one point or another and even multiple times. But even knowing this is normal doesn't stop self-doubt from happening. I tried a lot of things to find my confidence again. There was no one cure. For about a year I was in despair. Even though I was having success and progressing I still felt unworthy. Don't get me wrong, I still loved karate and never once considered quitting, but I really wanted to feel like I was good (or even just decent) at the thing I loved, and for a long time I couldn't see that I was getting any better. I started to feel terribly insecure any time I knew I was being watched in class. It's hard to describe how it feels to want to be both invisible and have the teacher's attention at the same time. I know the only way to get better is to integrate corrections and feedback and your teacher has to watch you to give that. But when you feel insecure the last thing you want is eyes on you. There was a lot of faking confidence with the hope I'd eventually start to feel it again.

One day, something pretty minor happened, but it felt so major to me. I've been fortunate in having lots of one on one coaching from one of the senseis. He was watching me perform Bassai Dai. I was counting in my head all the little mistakes I caught myself making, and I knew he'd see all of them because he has this amazing eye (one of the things I love about him actually). I finished the kata and awaited his assessment. He hadn't seen me in a while, so I was sure he'd have lots of corrections for me. He did not disappoint. But then he said something that I did not expect. He said he could tell I'd been working on the corrections he'd given me last time and he could see a big improvement in my kata. I thanked him, then went home and cried. Which seems a stupid overreaction, but I'd been working on that kata for a long time and that's the first time anybody had ever said anything positive about it. I honestly thought it was really just terrible. But I started to think maybe it wasn't after all. I didn't think it was good, just not terrible. And that was progress.

This one occurrence didn't cure my self-doubt, but it certainly caused me to see things from a different perspective, which was a step in the right direction. Other positives have been brought to my attention since then too. It's helped a lot. When I now have to coach others I make it a point to always try and leave them with something positive because I really don't want anyone to ever feel the way I have felt. It costs me nothing to encourage someone who may need it more than any of us could ever know. If I need it I'm certain others do too. And if they don't? Well no harm in giving it anyway.

Having said that, I also know that too many of us (myself included) care far too much about external validation. Ideally we wouldn't, but the truth is most of us are not good at judging our own performance and we are too hard on ourselves. We all want to feel like we're doing well, and sometimes the only way to know that is for someone to tell you. But if you're an imposter like me, there's very few people you believe when they compliment you. I'll just convince myself I'm faking it really well and I've fooled them. But there are some people I know I can't fool. I can't fool my teachers. If they ever told me I did anything well I'd have to believe them. But everyone else? Fooled them! I'll downplay and minimize any praise they ever give me.

After my first blog post last month, I received a lot of kind words and positive feedback. I've been called the best, a rock star, a big deal, the gold standard, an inspiration, and a thousand other complimentary things. One friend used my name as a verb to mean they did something well. I can outwardly laugh it off usually with some kind of self-deprecating joke. But inwardly I cringe at that kind of attention. That's not being humble, that's being ridiculously insecure. As I was writing this, I was chatting with one of those friends and she rightfully told me my brain was being an ass, and that she was baffled that I feel this way. But I've noticed I'm not the only one with self-doubt. Just as I'm certain some of you reading this are now realizing you're not the only ones either. Maybe there is something in knowing it's a shared struggle for many of us. I really do believe we can come out of it better than we were. It just takes time and perseverance.

Today I'm in a better place than I was a year ago. I still have insecurity but I push through it, and sometimes I feel good about my performance. Once in a while, I even feel great about it. I accept there are limits to what my body will ever be able to do, I'll never be an elite karateka, but I do still think I am working towards a level of competence that I can feel good about and hold my head up high. Every day is a step towards that target.

Here is probably the most important thing I can say about building confidence in karate or in anything: No worthwhile journey is easy. It takes hard work to achieve anything substantial. Real confidence comes from proving to ourselves we can do hard things by doing them, not from doing easy things. I think I've done some hard things on my karate journey. I think there are many more hard things ahead of me. And you know what? I know I can and will do them. It doesn't mean I won't have days where self-doubt is strong, or where I struggle to see my performance through an objective lens. But it does mean I will push through it and hold myself accountable to achieve the goals that I set out for myself. I won't give up just because it's hard. That's probably all I or anyone needs to know about what karate has done for my confidence.