The argument you're having alone

There's a version of imposter syndrome that doesn't announce itself.

Note: I’ve begun publishing solo commentary weekly, on Fridays, to supplement my weekly guest interview. I draw one lesson from the interview, layer on my perspective, and provide actionable advice for introverted leaders.

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What this episode is about

The argument you’re having alone

There’s a version of imposter syndrome that doesn’t announce itself.

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It’s not the voice that says I’m not good enough for this. That one you can name. This one hides behind something that looks a lot like preparation.

You’re in a situation that isn’t working. Something’s unsustainable. A conversation needs to happen. And something in you has already decided how it’s going to go — so you don’t have it. You manage. You absorb. Or you build toward it like a case you’re going to argue, gathering evidence, sharpening your points, rehearsing your lines.

The problem is: you’re already having the conversation. Alone. In your head. With a version of the other person you invented.

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A while back I spent the better part of a day building a case. I was carrying something at work that had grown beyond what I’d signed on for, and I was furious about the lack of support from a senior executive who I thought should have been more involved. I prepared a whole argument — blinded, honestly, by pride. I was ready to fight.

Then I got quiet enough to hear a different question: what if I just asked for their help?

Not argued. Not demanded. Just asked.

So I let the whole brief go and walked into that conversation with one sentence: “I’ve been carrying a lot of pressure on this and I could use your support. Can we talk about what that looks like?”

The executive said yes immediately. They hadn’t even known I was struggling. The conversation took less than a minute.

I had spent the previous 12 hours in an argument that existed entirely in my own head — and turned out to be completely false.

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That’s the part that stayed with me. I wasn’t just overthinking. I was working with a story — a version of events — that simply wasn’t true. I had already decided they wouldn’t show up, before I’d ever given them the chance to.

This week’s guest, Amy Vasterling, gave me a framework for why this happens. She studies why highly sensitive people and introverts learn to override their own inner knowing — to distrust the signal, assume the external world won’t receive them well, and go it alone rather than ask. It’s a trained response, she argues. Not a character flaw. And it’s recoverable.

My inner knowing was telling me something simple: go ask for help. I buried it under anger and rehearsal because asking felt like admitting I couldn’t handle it. Like the answer was already no.

That’s the trap. Not the executive. Me — building a story in my head about how they’d respond, and then spending 12 hours preparing for a rejection that was never coming.

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The actual move was embarrassingly simple: name what’s true, stop performing the argument, and let the other person respond.

If you’re carrying something right now that has started to feel like it’s all on you — the full conversation with Amy is this week’s episode. She goes deep on exactly why this pattern forms and what it actually takes to break it. Link below.

And if there’s a conversation you’ve been putting off: reach out this week. Just one sentence. “I’ve been carrying something and I could use your perspective. Can we find fifteen minutes?” That’s it. See what comes back