They picked you

We don’t all get ribbons and medals for doing good work, but that doesn’t mean we’re not appreciated. (SDASM Archives)

"It's a great gig," said the freelancer. "I mean, I have a master's in social work, not management. So I wonder if he'd be better off with someone else. But I'm happy to run this guy's office."

This social-worker-turned-office-manager was expressing a common belief: "I'm a stand-in for someone who could do the job better." It's one of the hallmarks of so-called imposter syndrome.

Here's the thing, though: That hypothetical person they could have hired who is better than you does not exist. If that person did exist, they would have the job. Instead, you have the job. Your boss, client, or partner picked you: the right person at the right time.

You're always allowed to turn down career opportunities, job offers, speaking engagements, and marriage proposals that you don't feel are the right fit for your strengths. However, if you are offered the position, it's yours to take. By definition, you are the best available option.

Some of us live in the shadow of an imaginary person who has better education and training, doesn't make the mistakes we make, doesn't have the self-doubt we have, and is nicer, smarter, and prettier, too.

But even if that person were real—even if a dragnet of every website in the world or every worker in your area could turn up more qualified or talented candidates for a given position—you're the one who's showing up. You're the one who can say yes. You're the one who has the trust.

Someone else may have the wrong schedule or charge too much for the service. They may be stronger than you in certain areas, but weaker in others. They may be high-maintenance or intimidating. They may simply be unknown and untested when compared to you.

When I taught music lessons, I was versatile enough that I could teach classical piano to one kid and rock guitar to another. I was very aware that there were better classical piano teachers and rock guitar teachers in the world. But I was a familiar face at the right price, and they weren't looking for "better." They were looking for "good enough," and I fit the bill.

Unfortunately, my sense of being "good enough" in the sense of "good enough for now" or "good enough under the circumstances" persisted. I was grateful when someone hired me for a project, and I figured that I was the most convenient option—"the devil you know," if you will.

This issue of selling myself short was exacerbated by a tendency to say yes to things that I probably shouldn't have said yes to, like an ongoing gig playing a white grand piano on a glass platform suspended over a bar in a downtown restaurant. I got used to taking on new challenges that weren't quite in my wheelhouse; as a result, I spent a lot of time feeling vaguely apologetic.

I have had to deliberately and thoroughly talk myself through this stuff in order to come to a new understanding of it. When a new opportunity arises, I have to make a decision about whether I am actually the best person for the job instead of moving forward out of a sense of obligation, a desire to be helpful, or fear that there won't be anyone else.

But my assessment of whether I'm the best person for the job consciously and intentionally does not account for every individual or business entity, real or imagined, living or dead, who could theoretically be in a position to do the work. It ignores the invisible Greek chorus that judges me and my work based on the highest standard in every domain.

Instead, I focus on whether I want to do the job, can do the job, and will be able to do it well. I don't need more than that, and neither does my client.

As a matter of fact, I am "good enough." Not just "good enough until we find someone better," but sufficient, capable, satisfactory. I qualify. I meet the requirements. I got in. I belong.

That mythical being may yet come along who can do everything I can do, but better. I may find myself given the bum's rush, tossed out, fired. But until that day comes, I'll enjoy the work I'm privileged to do with the people who, out of all of their possible options, chose me.

If you, like my social worker friend, wonder if you could be supplanted by someone better—if you find yourself haunted by a more competent ghost—remember that you are the one who was chosen, and you were chosen for a reason. They chose you because of who you are and what you can do.

So what if you were in the right place at the right time? That doesn't mean you don't deserve to be where you are. You appeared just when they were looking for what you have to offer. They don't want someone else. They picked you.