Working on the Work: A Coach’s Confession on Confidence and Imposter Syndrome

Here’s the thing about being a coach: you spend a lot of time supporting other people through the very things you’re still figuring out for yourself.

I recently participated in a small group coaching program for women (because yes, coaches need coaches too). As part of the experience, I received feedback through a tool called Loupe—and the feedback was both affirming and clarifying. Not because I heard anything new, but because I heard—loud and clear—things I already know about myself. Things others see in me and want me to fully own.

The consistent developmental themes were:

• Cultivate self-confidence and positivity.

• Expand personal visibility and networking.

• Build self-belief.

Let’s just say—message received.

None of this was particularly surprising. I know these are areas I struggle with (and let’s be honest…they’re things I have struggled with since I was a kid). But seeing them reflected back to me with clarity from people who know me well and I deeply trust and respect hit differently. Because this feedback? It wasn’t just a performance review—it was a mirror. The irony, of course, is that I coach women on these exact things every single day.

So naturally, I had a moment where I asked myself:
“Wait… do I have imposter syndrome about helping people with imposter syndrome?”

How meta.

Here are just a few of the things people said to me in the Loupe report (and yes, I cried):

• “I want you to believe in you the way others do.”
• “The self-doubt and pessimism I sometimes hear from you in no way reflects how I or others experience you or the impact you have had, are having, and will have for good on the world.”
• “Believe in yourself. The world needs MORE of you out there. I will always believe in you, and your gifts, and your goodness. One day I hope you believe in yourself even more than I do.”
• “Talk about yourself and the difference you make.”

Whew. I share all this not because I’m looking for reassurance (okay, maybe a tiny bit), but because I know I’m not the only one who’s ever gotten this kind of feedback and immediately wanted to crawl under a blanket of humility, perfectionism, and LinkedIn silence. This wasn’t about being called out—it was about being called up. To more courage. More presence. More self-trust.

In the same breath, the feedback was also full of deep recognition for who I already am. They shared strengths they see in me, like:

• Exhibiting calm resilience amid change: “Quiet resilience. I’ve seen you demonstrate this through your parenting, working with difficult clients, and navigating organizational politics.”

• Effectively managing client relationships: “One of the strengths that comes to mind is the ability Chris has to listen to what’s not said and follow up on it in a way that helps people better understand themselves and the moment they are in.”

• Encouraging and practicing self-discovery: “You’re reflective and integrate learnings into how you show up in the future, all while not waiting around for recognition.”

Reading those words reminded me: I’m not broken. I’m becoming.

The truth is that doing meaningful work and believing in your ability to do it are two different muscles. And building the second one—especially when your inner critic is loud and very persistent—is real work. It’s vulnerable, uncomfortable, and really necessary.

What’s become clear to me is if I don’t start showing up differently—sharing more of my voice, owning my impact, trusting my gifts—I will limit not only my business, but the people I’m meant to help.

So I’m naming it. Here. Publicly.

I’m working on the work.

More visibility, even when it feels uncomfortable.
More trusting my gut and my ability to figure things out.
More courage to believe what others already see, without brushing it off with a polite smile and a self-deprecating joke.

And if you’ve ever read a glowing piece of feedback and thought, “They’re just being nice,” consider this your reminder: what if they weren’t? What if they were simply telling the truth?

Here’s to believing them.
Here’s to believing in ourselves, just a little more each day.
And here’s to showing up fully even if imposter syndrome is tagging along for the ride.