When we’re young, we’re desperate to be like everyone else.

And that ain’t no shock. Kids are mean and they will tease over ANYTHING that stands out. Lunatics. So we bent and twisted ourselves into something that we weren’t. We make sure our lunches were the same. That we wore the same stupid shoes or listen to the same (amazing) songs (the music was pretty good, not gonna lie).

Just anything to show we fit in with everyone else.

There’s no use in pretending that failure doesn’t suck massive rhino balls. On a practical level it can be expensive as hell. And it saps us of our time.

It can also be sooooo embarrassing. Oh good lord, one time I took part in a saddleless horse-mounting competition in Tennessee at a massive church camp.

And I totally won it! (NO I DIDN’T I SO DIDN’T OH GODDDDDDD NOOOOO)

I fell UP THE horse and crashed into its side at the same time, in front of thousands of people who laughed at me. No, this was not a dream. It happened in real life in the 80s and in my mind it’s still as fresh as a Five Guys.

Either an epic fail, or a straw-that-breaks-the-camel’s-back fail (or horse’s back fail in my case) can be enough to make us give up on something forever. Or make us verbally and emotionally abuse ourselves so badly that we never try again.

I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to leave this existence riddled with regret. No way. Not a chance.

You know what it’s like — you’re in a room, surrounded by all these people who are smiling, and chatting, and seem happy to be there (WTF?).

And…there they are. The one person who really shines. The Butterfly.

How dare they float around, from group to group with no problem or hesitation?

They seem to make every conversation they are a part of more fun, more animated, more exciting. Everyone’s delighted to see them and pull them in for more! More! More!

I would stare at these people and think, “Hmm. How can I take them down?”

And then I thought, “I could never be like that.”

And then I thought, “How do they do that?”

It was 2018 and I was in hell.

Hell in this case was a networking room filled with 99 other people…who were all competing against me and each other for a places on a prestigious talent scheme.

It’s the stuff a sadistic lunatic’s dreams are made of.

I had been here before — the exact same mixer the previous year. But I failed that time. I didn’t make it onto the scheme. I was also at least 20 years older than 98 of those people. So here I was, still the socially awkward previous reject trying yet again to get people to understand that I deserved this scheme.

Here’s what happened, and how it can help you with Impostor Syndrome.