For a huge chunk of my life, I was living in a mental prison built by Imposter Syndrome.
Nothing was perfect.
Nothing was good.
Nothing was ever enough.
If life was a video game, I somehow managed to download the absolute worst combination of stats to be a founder. Imagine a character build made of:
- Crippling Perfectionism
- Severe Imposter Syndrome
- Anxiety & Insecurity (left and right)
- And just to spice it up… Impatience.
(I shouldn’t have even think of listing but here we are and we’ll get to these later in another blog.)
It was a recipe for disaster. When I started creating content, I would get stuck for days on the simplest tasks. In my head, there was always a voice screaming, “You can make this better,” or “This is trash.”
If I wrote a script, I’d never film it because the script wasn’t perfect. If I started editing, I’d never finish because the cut wasn’t perfect.
When I became a full-time founder, you can imagine the chaos.
Time stopped making sense. The only way I could actually ship anything was to force myself to make videos without scripts and without editing—because if I touched it, I would tweak it for infinity.
The “Superhero” Trap
Here is the dark truth about being a self-aware perfectionist: It is a trap.
I honestly sometimes feel envy toward people who are either too egoistic to see their flaws, or just too dumb to realize they even have problems. Ignorance really is bliss.
But if you are someone who is aware and a perfectionist, you are playing life on “Hard Mode.”
It’s like a superhero unlocking uncomfortable, enhanced senses.
Suddenly, you aren’t just living; you are calculating. You feel every insecurity, every imperfection, and every tiny variable in the room.
You are constantly running simulations of infinite external variables to calculate exactly what could go wrong. You aren’t just experiencing a problem; you are actively simulating how you could ruin the situation before it even happens.
If you relate to this, you can feel that pain in your chest right now. It’s the burden of seeing too much.
It creates a specific kind of hell: The Superhero Level Awareness Shit Spiral!
- You are aware of the problem.
- You know the solution.
- But you are unable to take action to fix it.
If you are at level 3, Congrats you have a double fucked life!
It feels like a cosmic joke. You look up and ask, “Bro WTF? You had one job and why mess things this bad inside out !?
The Glitch in the Matrix
Now here comes the twist that annoys many people. To fix the things you are aware of, you sometimes need to become even more aware.
I know what you’re thinking - “I am trying to fix the things I am aware of, and you’re now asking me to become MORE aware?”
Being aware is a curse if you can’t fix it. It shows you the wound but hides the medicine.
But eventually, I realized I was asking the wrong question.I was asking, *“What is wrong with me?”*I should have been asking, “Where did this come from?”
We often feel that our insecurities, our anxiety, and our imposter syndrome are US. We tie them to our identity. We think:“I am an anxious person.""I am an imposter.”
That is the lie.
Most insecurities, imposter syndrome moments, and anxieties do not come from within. They come from older wounds, memories, or experiences that stuck to us at a time when we were too young or too vulnerable to process them.
- That voice telling you it’s not good enough? That might be a teacher from 10 years ago.
- That fear of failure? That might be a parent, relative or a bad experience.
- That feeling of being afraid to disappoint others? That’s the pressure of a society always preaching to be humble and follow rules.
Realizing this gives you the ultimate validation:
The negative emotions that trigger when you touch a wound are not yours. You are not the problem. The problem is external—it is a piece of luggage you were handed, and you’ve been carrying it around thinking it’s your skin.
Rewire, Don’t Suppress
We make the mistake of adopting these external glitches as our Identity.
Everything positive and negative comes from the outside. It affects us differently based on our age, our sensitivity, and our environment. But we take it personal. We hug the bomb.
If you resonated with that “superhero sense” of anxiety earlier, I need you to try this shift.
Stop trying to “fix” yourself. Start separating yourself.
When the anxiety hits, don’t say, “Why am I like this?” Instead, look for the chain. Ask, “Who gave me this feeling? Where did this come from?”
We can control how we process emotions, but only if we realize those emotions aren’t us.
Adopt a new identity. One that acknowledges the baggage but refuses to claim ownership of it.
Maybe this little awareness becomes the first step toward peace. Or at least toward not letting your “superhero senses” torture you daily.
It’s a long road. I’m not fully there yet—I’m still managing it.But being at peace with the fact that the wound isn’t “you” is the first step to healing it.
End Note
I know, easier said than done.
But if you’re stuck in that loop of perfectionism and paralysis, just remember:
You aren’t broken. You’re just carrying bags that don’t belong to you.Put them down.
And hey, don’t take this too seriously.
I’m just a founder trying to fix my own brain. Maybe it helps yours too.