When we were kids, we were like sponges.
Don’t you remember? We easily latched onto, believed, and replicated the beliefs, opinions, and actions of those around us — young and old — without giving them a second thought.
Eventually, we all reach a certain moment where we sit face to face with a past belief and realize that we’ve never actually examined it, but now that we have, we’ve found that we don’t… actually… believe it.
We see that if we were to go on living and acting as if we still believed it, we’d be an impostor. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A fraud.
We have a tough choice ahead of us.
The impostor and the truth can never live peacefully together. One must die.
Old false beliefs die hard. Especially when people you love believe them too.
So, what’ll it be? Who do we bury? The impostor? Or the truth that’s just been revealed to us?
Most of us let the impostors live. We’ll murder our truths without hesitation because, for our egos, they sure beat the alternative: upsetting, disappointing, and/or embarrassing those in our tribe who still believe what we now see as complete rubbish.
So we rationalize away, drown out, or distract ourselves from our new truth until it fades into the darkness again — out of sight, out of mind.
Killing the impostor, dead, like Clint Eastwood in those old western movies, is what we must do to be aligned with our truth.
It’s not easy. The villagers may revolt. They may run you out of town on a rail.
But no one said it was easy being Sheriff..
*Note: Yes, this is different than impostor syndrome.
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