Another training isn’t always the fix

One of the most common “What comes next?” responses comes masked as one of these:

“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“I need more training first.”
“I know I’ve done a lot, but…”
“There are other people who…”
“Here are the 3 certifications I need to start_____”

You don’t need another certificate. 

Stop confusing overing with being worthy.

We’ve been taught to over-credential ourselves. To overwork, overgive, overperform, and yes—overlearn. I say this with compassion. “Learner” is one of my top strengths. Since my 2016 breakdown, I’ve taken many trainings - some that changed me from the inside out, and others I took simply because I thought I “should.”

But eventually I realized: the next certificate wasn’t going to make me feel enough.

What I actually needed was to remember myself. And creativity—not more knowledge—was the bridge between the old and what was next.

What I see underneath all these responses is a fear of unworthiness. Unworthiness gets masked as Imposterism.

When I work with people in transition, especially those standing on the edge of something new, imposterism often resurfaces. Loudly. It’s not random. It’s a response to change, a safety mechanism from systems that taught us our worth lives in output.

When you begin to shift an identity, a career, or name a truth you can’t unknow, imposterism shows up as a way to keep you small. But not too small. Small enough to stay quiet, but productive enough to keep overing.

Imposterism isn’t a flaw. It’s a pattern—one designed and reinforced by systems that tie your worth to output and perfection. It trains you to question yourself, even after decades of impact and proof.

It’s why I stayed in higher ed longer than I probably should have. Why I kept overworking, overcommitting, and overperforming. Eventually, I walked away—not because I had it all figured out, but because I couldn’t ignore the cost of staying any longer.

Systems benefit from your burnout. Creativity disrupts that. And that’s where the real work begins. Not the leap to a new role. Not the next job title or pivot plan. The repair. The remembering of who I already was underneath the striving.

You’re not broken.

You’re not behind.

You don’t need to earn your enoughness.

You’re already whole, and ready to create from where you are now.