Okay. I’m going to say the quiet part out loud.
I know in-person networking is the next right step for my business. I know it. I could write you a whole strategy about why it matters, how to follow up, and what to say when someone asks what you do.
I could probably build you a Notion database to track your networking contacts with relationship stages and next-step prompts. Oh waitโฆ I have built this! ๐
And yet, every single time I think about walking into a room full of other business owners, something in me tightens up.
Not because I’m afraid of people. Not because I don’t know what I do. But because somewhere between the parking lot and the name tag table, my brain starts running this little highlight reel of everything that could go sideways.
What if you say something silly? What if you’re too much? What if they take one look at you and realize you don’t actually belong here?
Fun times. Really fun times. ๐
The Confidence Contradiction
Here’s where it gets genuinely weird: I am not a person who lacks confidence in what I do.
Six years. Six years of building websites, designing brands, writing strategy, and โ more recently โ building Notion systems and AI integrations that hand people back a business that actually feels calm to run. I can walk someone through a chaotic, scattered, “I have 47 tabs open and I still can’t find what I need” situation and come out the other side with a system that actually works.
One place for everything. Clear workflow. No more drowning.
That part? Zero doubt.
So how is it possible that I can be fully confident in my work and still feel like I don’t measure up the second I’m standing next to someone else who calls themselves a business owner?
I’ll tell you how: Imposter syndrome doesn’t care how good you are. It just keeps moving the goalposts.
What “Real Business Owner” Even Means (Spoiler: I Made It Up)
Here’s the thing I’ve been sitting with lately.
I’m not an LLC. My bookkeeping is… let’s call it vibes-adjacent. I track whether we have enough for food, bills, and savings โ but I don’t have a clean P&L spreadsheet I review every Monday morning while drinking a latte and wearing business casual.
And for a long time, that has made me feel like I’m playing a role rather than actually being a business owner.
Like I have the website, the clients, the services, the six years of experience โ but I’m missing some invisible credential that everyone else apparently got and I missed the email about.
Could your imposter syndrome BEEEEE any more exhausting? (Yes, that was a Friends reference. No, I’m not sorry.)
But here’s what I’m starting to understand: I made up the definition I’ve been failing to meet.
I created a version of “real business owner” in my head โ probably assembled from LinkedIn posts, other people’s highlight reels, and whatever I absorbed from watching too many successful-looking people talk about their revenue goals โ and then I’ve been holding myself up to that instead of looking at what’s actually true.
What’s actually true: I’ve served real clients. I’ve delivered real results. I’ve built real systems that changed how people run their businesses. For six years.
That’s not playing a role. That’s the role.
The Weight Underneath It
I’d be leaving something important out if I didn’t say this part too.
There’s a very real weight underneath all of this that isn’t just about networking jitters. I’m 55. My husband Steve is turning 60. We’ve been building this for over five and a half years, and when I look at where we are versus where I thought we’d be by now, the thought that we could still be grinding through this at 80 if things don’t shift is not a fun one to sit with.
I look around and I see what it seems like other people have figured out, and I wonder: What am I doing wrong? Why am I not there yet?
And then the imposter syndrome has a field day, because it takes that very real, very legitimate fear and turns it into: See? You were never really one of them.
I don’t have a tidy resolution to this one. I’m still in it. But I do know the difference between a legitimate concern about the future and a thought pattern that’s keeping me stuck โ and I’m learning to separate the two.
The Networking Fear, Specifically
Back to the room full of business owners.
My fear isn’t that I’ll offend someone or say something actually harmful. My fear is that I’ll be too much. That I’ll stick my foot in my mouth (I do this sometimes โ in a totally harmless “oh my gosh why did I just say that” way), or come off as pushy, or just seem like I don’t quite fit.
I’m quirky. I’m enthusiastic. I talk with my hands. I quote Friends probably more than is professionally advised.
And honestly? I think I’ve been framing those things as liabilities instead of what they actually are: the reason people remember me.
The business owners who stand out in a networking room aren’t the polished ones who say all the right things. They’re the ones who feel real. Who make you laugh. Who you actually want to have coffee with afterward.
Being “too much” for some people just means you’re exactly enough for your people.
What I’m Actually Going to Do About It
I’m not going to wait until the imposter syndrome quiets down. I’ve been waiting for that and it hasn’t happened yet in six years, so I think we can safely say it’s not going to magically resolve itself before I walk into a networking event.
Instead, I’m going to do a few practical things:
- Research and commit to 2โ3 local networking events or groups in the next month. Actual calendar events. Actual RSVPs. None of this “I’ll look into it” energy.
- Stop measuring myself against a definition of success I invented from other people’s highlight reels. When I catch myself doing this, I’m going to redirect to what’s actually true about my work and my clients.
- Have a real conversation with Steve about what specific milestones would move the needle โ not vague “we need to grow” conversations, but actual targets that would ease the financial anxiety and give us something concrete to build toward.
And underneath all of it, I’m leaning into my faith. I believe God is leading me in the right direction, even when I can’t see the whole map. The next best step, even when it’s uncomfortable, is to just walk through the door.
If you’ve been in business for more than a year โ heck, more than a month โ and you still feel like an imposter sometimes, I want you to know: you are not alone and you are not behind.
The imposter syndrome voice is loud. It’s persistent. And it has absolutely zero relationship to how good you actually are at what you do.
๐ Save this post if you’ve ever felt like you’re “playing the role” of a business owner
๐ฌ Share it with a fellow entrepreneur who needs to hear they’re not alone








