Q: All my life i’ve felt i am an imposter and after reading the book i know why! But now what do i do!!! How to get started?

A: You feel like an imposter because you are one. Not morally, but structurally. The self you’ve been living as was assembled to function, belong, succeed, survive, not to be true. So of course it feels fake.

That feeling isn’t a problem to solve. It’s the signal. Not to ‘get started,’ but that you’ve already started.

You’re asking the question everyone asks at this point. And it sounds practical, urgent, even reasonable.

But the real question here is “Now that I see the lie, how do I become someone who knows what to do?”

This is the false self, freshly exposed, scrambling to reassert authority. It lost its mask and now wants a new job title: spiritual beginner, seeker, someone doing it right.

Let’s slow this down and focus.

You say you’ve felt like an imposter all your life. After reading the book, you “know why.” That recognition matters, but not for the reason you think. The mind immediately turns recognition into a problem to solve: Okay, diagnosis received. What’s the treatment plan? Where do I start?

It’s important to see that this impulse is the very mechanism that created the imposter in the first place. It perpetuates the beliefs that there is a you who should now take action, that there is a starting point, a method that leads somewhere better. All of that belongs to the dream. All of it.

Stop trying to fix the imposter and start dismantling it. What you’re standing in front of is not a project, it’s a demolition site. So start pulling a thread, any thread. Pick one belief you are absolutely certain is true about yourself and destroy it. Don’t replace it, or improve it, or spiritualize it. Kill it. On paper. With brutal honesty. No poetry. No performance.

You’re likely somewhere in Phase Two: Disruption, right on the threshold of Deconstruction. The false self has been seen but not yet abandoned. The ground has cracked, but you’re still looking for a new place to stand. You want traction, reassurance, orientation. You want to know how to proceed without losing control. That’s the fear lighting you up right now.

Here’s the part no one wants to hear: There is no on-ramp. You don’t enter this process. You stop resisting what’s already happening. Your ability to surrender will minimize the impending discomfort. Read that part of the book again.

It may be challenging to see now, but the imposter feeling wasn’t a flaw, it was accuracy. It was the only honest signal in a lifetime of performance. And now that the story explaining it has collapsed, the nervous system panics and demands instructions. But instructions are how the false self survives.

So instead of asking what to do, try sitting with the question you’re avoiding:

“If there is no role left to play, no identity to fix, and no path to follow, what exactly is left of “me” that needs to get started?”

Don’t answer that, or improve it, or turn it into a project. Just notice what recoils.

That recoil is your work. The question isn’t how to begin; it’s how much you’re willing to lose.