Imposter Syndrome is Lying to You (And Here’s What’s Real)

Some days I open Instagram and feel it before I even know what hit me.

"I’m not good enough."

Even after years of doing this.
Even after building a career.
Even after knowing better — that voice still f*cking whispers in my ear.

And the worst part?
Sometimes I believe it.
Sometimes I let it in.
Sometimes it sits in my chest like a goddamn anchor.

I hesitate to post my work online — because maybe it’s not “good enough.”
Not for the algorithm.
Not for the version of success the industry shoves down our throats.
Not for the imaginary panel of judges I somehow still picture in my head.

And the f*cked up part?
I know better.

I know it’s curated. Polished. Filtered fakery.
I know what you see online isn’t what’s real.
But it still f*cking gets under my skin.

Because while I’m busy tearing my work apart,
someone else might be whispering, “Damn, I wish I could do that.”

Wild, right?

The mind is a f*cking battlefield.

The worst lie I tell myself?

"You’ll never be as good, as creative, as cool, as wanted as [insert whoever the f*ck is crushing it this week]."

It doesn’t matter how many kind words people send.
Doesn’t matter how many couples cry over their photos.
Doesn’t matter how many times I’ve proved that voice wrong.

The doubt still comes back.
Especially after every shoot.

I replay it in my head like a bad movie on repeat:
“Was that enough?”
“Did I give them what they deserve?”
“Was I enough?”

It’s exhausting.
And it’s deeply human.

But here’s the thing I’m slowly learning —
(and some days, yeah, it still feels like a f*cking war):

Everyone is winging it.

Everyone.
Even the ones who seem untouchable.

I just recorded a podcast episode with Fer Juaristi — one of the most wildly creative, boundary-breaking photographers I know.
(Yeah, you read that right — podcast. More on that soon.)

And guess what he told me?

He still gets nervous before every wedding.
Still wonders if he’ll live up to what people expect.
Still battles the same damn ghosts.

If he feels it —
then maybe it’s not weakness.

Maybe it’s just part of giving a damn.

Because here’s the truth no one tells you:

Self-doubt doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means you give a shit.

It means you’re still trying.
Still pushing.
Still reaching for something that matters.

It means you’re not numb.
Not a machine.
Not playing this game on autopilot.

And yeah —
social media will keep lying to you.
The highlight reels will keep rolling.
The perfectly styled captions will keep showing up on your feed like sugar-coated grenades.

But you?

You can unfollow the noise.
You can stop waiting for permission.
You can live your heart.

If I could sit down with my younger self —
the version of me crying over edits, doubting every shot, questioning if he belongs —
I’d tell him this:

You are already enough.
You always f*cking were.
You don’t have to be the loudest.
You just have to be the realest.

Hot Water Music said it best:
"Live your heart and never follow."

And maybe — just maybe — that’s the whole f*cking point.

You’re not here to compete.
You’re not here to impress the internet.
You’re not here to chase some goddamn aesthetic.

You’re here to make shit that feels real.
To leave a mark that doesn’t fade with trends.
To bleed meaning into moments and call it art.

You’re not falling behind.
You’re not a fraud.
You’re just brave enough to still give a damn.

And that?

That’s rarer — and braver — than most people will ever understand.

Hugs,
Bjørn

For the hearts still beating—keep creating, keep pushing, keep giving a damn.