Imposter

Let's start with yesterday...

I laid out my "must do's" list to my wife - after a long day of studying and working together on a Sunday in the city, despite a beautiful reprieve of 90 minutes at Manchesters loveliest contrast therapy venue (Fix) I was still fraught with anxiety... 24 hours in ahead of an event I was planning on attending.

Must do's

1. Dye hair - the faded pink had shown a grey hair - a solitary grey hair that had quite upset me as I headed out the door yesterday; but also the bold, brash red, spoke more for me, than I could sometimes. See me, now hear me. Or something like that.

2. False nails - I've become accustomed to my self-care treat of a 8 weekly BIAB manicure. However after a fraught December filled with fertility highs and lows, I haven't quite found my 2025 stride in regaining that time for me, and instead, as quite the coping mechanism (I know) I have instead, thrown myself whole heartedly into work. Cue, the less than glamorous alternative, but sufficient mask, stick on nails.

3. Face mask - clean, clear skin that says 37, not 47 as the grey hair has lead me into a quandary of self inflicted ageism!

4. - realising a list of must do's for something that merely requires my presence, my purpose and my passion is quite an over-exertion and thankless task in list making and fretting over nonsense.

Today, I got up, I got dressed, I washed and styled my hair, perfectly lovely.

I put on my makeup, a fine black suit, with casual cotton white t-shirt and some gold accessories. Girls bringing non-binary smart Cas and I'm here for it.

Paired with some vintage Nike high-tops, new bold black thick rimmed glasses, cutesy floral laptop bag and swishing long grey tweed coat - winning.

It's as if Smartworks themselves had dressed me for the day.

And off I toddled, to said event - Smartworks International Women's Day celebration event in the city.

I came, I grabbed coffee, I made a beeline to say hello to epic and incredibly beautiful in red suit Louise Minchin, bumbled a line about being in the same category at an awards do last year, and duly panicked at my imposter syndrome taking over as the words left my mouth. This is not a case of fan dangled celeb awe (well, a little, I've grown up like many women my age; watching BBC female journalists smash the patriarchy from within) but I realised, much like the Fran who makes "must do," lists - I'm so far out of my comfort zone in rooms like this, I feel consumed with anxiety.

Why,

I spend my day job, my love, my passion, advocating for, empowering, and providing a platform for WOMEN LIKE ME. 

My work is about showing the world OUR power, OUR place, OUR purpose, so why, as founder, facilitator, public speaker and propagator do I shrink in places like this?

It's because despite my absolute belief that women like me DO deserve to be in rooms like that - I don't whole heartedly believe it for myself. And that is a rather sad thing to realise at an International Womens Day event.

I'm thwarted by my own demons; the ghost of the past me that chase me through corridors of power and rooms of purpose to haunt my present.

Telling me - who I was.

But rarely reminding me - of who I am.

My therapist in prison taught me the power of "automatic thoughts," and the onus on us, to regard or disregard and have the ability and visibility to recognise the real, from the imposed/presumed/created not curated and that with minds like mine, that are warped by mental health disorders, trauma, and ghosts, the daily practice of mental housekeeping and sweeping out the irrelevant and untrue, is so important.

It won't surprise you to know, today, I did no housekeeping.

Instead, I let those thoughts sweep me, into the quietest, darkest corner.

And a little light shone.

A beautiful human being - the loveliest Lee Chambers.

"Hi Fran, how are you?" with a warm embrace of authentic care, followed by

"Still working hard at changing the prison system?"

Now; let me give this interaction context.

I've seen Lee at some of these kind of events, on the panel, in the audience, networking. Always incredibly dapper and exuding confidence AND kindness.

We've met, exchanged chit chats and I know him and he knows me, social media more so I'm sure but the fact that he's here, on the panel, to talk about allyship and has the ability to recall my name, my work and ask such a purposeful question - when we can often fall into the trap of networking, event, award, networking, event, award and to remember, recall and show care - it's the true reflection of a persons character.

As a teenager and in my early 20's I was dragged to more than my fair share of high society silliness, wining and dining and networking with parents who did not operate that same care; niceties and air kisses and gregarious acts of recognition often followed by complete loss and lack of interest or knowledge as to who they were speaking to, or why that person was there or sought them out.

I was wheeled round as the prodigal daughter, politics at University, job in London, blonde with a bust, from money. 

And then I wasn't.

And I still somehow found myself in rooms like that, parading and peacocking, holding onto who I was.

When I was in prison, my offender manager told me all I had to say to the Governors board to approve my release on temporary license to go out to work everyday were two magical words -

"Why did you commit your crime?"

Personal gain.

And I refused, because I didn't feel two words of such power, could boil down my choices, decisions, chaos, and ultimately deceit.

When I spoke with my therapist about why I refused, she asked me why, why did I commit my crime.

We went down a rabbit hole, lots of tears, thoughts and provocations, justifications and then the sentence which haunts me came out

"Because I wanted my parents to see what I was doing and what a success I had become, so they would feel proud of me,"

What a tragic admission for a woman serving a prison sentence at the age of 34.

Last year, I was shortlisted as a finalist in the same category as Louise Minchin and I laughed and said to Sarah; that there was absolutely no point in going to the awards ceremony because the women in my category were nothing short of phenomenal - truly phenomenal.

And then I ended up walking away with my own award for highly commended and I couldn't quite believe it.

And that thought lingered with me today.

If I can be in a category with these women, because of the work I do, because of the person I am. I can be in a room with these women and feel the ground is level, and it's not them and me. It's us.

True feminism is at my core, but I somehow don't apply it to myself.

I shout from the rooftops that empowered women, empower women, that women supporting women are my kind of women.

Today, I saw a room full of authenticity, equity and solidarity. Agreement that we all work together to bring the change, to be the change.

I hold that dear. I do.

Over Christmas a wise feminist warrior Gail Heath held my hand across a table and said "Fran, you just need to be brave. You need to braver,"

We were talking about this feeling - this second class citizen feeling and that if I am to wield my power, I need to feel my power, for me.

I'll take the title from Louise's book and run with it today.

Fearless.

Let's try that.