In the Marine Corps, you're taught to lead by example, but transitioning that into coaching real estate investors felt like I was back at square one. I found my footing by leaning into the discipline of my 'boots on the ground' experience; I stopped trying to sound like a guru and started showing my clients the grit behind my 50+ transactions. Once I realized that my value wasn't just in the wins, but in the resilience I showed during the tough deals, the imposter syndrome faded and was replaced by a genuine mission to serve.
Absolutely--I had imposter syndrome when I started mentoring newer investors because I kept thinking, "Who am I to teach this?" even after years in the business. What got me past it was grounding my coaching in real deals and real outcomes: I'd walk someone through one clear next step (like running numbers on a rental or making the first seller call), then let results--not my nerves--do the talking. I also leaned on my hospitality leadership background and reminded myself coaching is just good service: listen first, be honest about what I know and don't, and help people make the next smart move.
Absolutely, I experienced significant imposter syndrome when I first started coaching and mentoring other entrepreneurs. Despite having built multiple businesses, launched dozens of apps, and managed e-commerce operations successfully, there was a persistent voice telling me I was not qualified enough to guide others. The self-doubt hit hardest during my first few coaching sessions. I would prepare obsessively, second-guess my advice afterward, and constantly compare myself to coaches with formal certifications and decades of experience. I felt like a fraud even though my clients were getting real results from our work together. What helped me move past it was a shift in perspective that came from an honest conversation with one of my early clients. They told me that what made my coaching valuable was not a certificate on the wall but the fact that I was actively building businesses while coaching them. I was not teaching theory from a textbook. I was sharing lessons from real challenges I was navigating in real time. That conversation changed everything for me. I realized that imposter syndrome often stems from comparing your behind-the-scenes reality with everyone else's highlight reel. Every coach starts somewhere, and your unique experience is exactly what makes your perspective valuable. The practical step that helped most was keeping a simple document where I recorded every client win, every positive piece of feedback, and every breakthrough moment from our sessions. On days when self-doubt crept in, I would read through that document and remind myself of the tangible impact I was having. Imposter syndrome never fully disappears, but it does become quieter when you focus on evidence rather than feelings.
In my early years of being a coach, I experienced self-doubt. "Who am I to do this work?", often reverberated in my mind. I was transitioning from a 15 year long career as a Doctor of Physical Therapy where I felt very confident because of so much training and experience, to a newer skill set. Like a baby giraffe learning to take it's first steps, it felt wobbly. My focus to gain confidence and move through the self-doubt supported was to do as many coaching sessions as I could at a price that I felt I could hold without collapsing. To start, that was holding as many free sessions as folks would take me up on. As my confidence grew, I increased my prices. I reminded myself of my coach training, and revisited what I'd learned as frequently as I needed. I consulted with coach mentors who had more years of experience than me. I built a library of referral resources should I find myself in a coaching situation that was out of my scope so that my body could relax knowing that I had a supportive plan in place for my clients. I invested in trainings that interested me, not from a place of accruing more credentials out of fear, but out of genuine interest and my value of continued growth. By continuing to do what felt like a stretch but still do-able for me to complete, I've built a thriving coaching practice in the past eight years, and feel extremely confident in my skill set. Right-sized aligned action was the most supportive way through my self-doubt into confidence.
Honestly, imposter syndrome was not something I experienced occasionally at the start. It was essentially a constant background noise that I learned to function alongside rather than something I ever fully silenced in those early months. The particular flavor of it that affected me most was the credentials question. I would sit across from a client who was accomplished, experienced, and dealing with genuinely complex challenges, and a voice in the back of my mind would quietly ask what exactly qualified me to be in this room. That voice did not care about my training or my preparation. It was operating from a much more primitive place. What began shifting things was a reframe I arrived at slowly through my own coaching work, which was recognizing that imposter syndrome is often just competence anxiety wearing a costume. The people who never doubt themselves in this work are frequently the ones who should. The doubt itself was evidence that I took the responsibility seriously enough to feel its weight. The practical thing that helped most was keeping a record of specific moments where my work created a visible shift for a client. Not testimonials for marketing purposes but a private document I could return to when the doubt was loudest. Reading concrete evidence of real impact in my own words grounded me in a way that general encouragement from others never quite could. The deeper work was accepting that authority in coaching does not come from having all the answers before the conversation begins. It comes from being genuinely present and skilled enough to help someone find their own. Once I stopped auditioning for the role and started simply doing it, the imposter narrative gradually lost the power it had held at the beginning. My honest reflection is that the coaches who ask this question are usually the ones most worth hiring. The doubt means the work matters to you. The key is learning to act in its presence rather than waiting for it to disappear, because it never fully does.