When the Chef Gets the Applause and You’re the One Who Booked the Damn Kitchen
A Meditation on Imposter Syndrome
Let’s talk about something that doesn’t get talked about enough in the retreat world:
Imposter syndrome when you’re not the “star” of your own show.
This week, a fellow retreat leader dropped this truth bomb in my inbox:
“I’m nervous about not being able to deliver an epic retreat. I’m not the main character—it’s the chef and the wine expert. I still feel worried, even though I’ve got a local guide, support staff, even a friend flying in to help.”
Here’s what I told her, and I’ll tell you too if that voice is creeping into your head:
You are the magic.
You are the one who hunted down that chef.
You handpicked the wine expert who’ll make someone cry over a 2012 Barolo.
You booked the villa, built the vibe, and curated an experience no one else could replicate because no one else is you.
You're not supposed to be center stage—you built the damn stage.
If your retreat was a film, the chef might get Best Supporting Actor.
But you? You’re the director, the producer, the casting agent, and the one who made sure there were snacks on set.
Still, she wrote back something that cracked my heart wide open:
“I’ve done amazing things in my life—came to the U.S. with $10k, graduated with an accounting degree, landed a job at a Big Five firm. But none of that seems to convince the emotional part of my brain that I’m good enough.”
Damn.
That’s the part that hits hardest, right?
Because logic doesn’t always win.
Because self-doubt is sneaky.
Because even when the world claps for us, we can still hear that whisper:
“But are you really good enough?”
And let’s be honest—when you’re leading a retreat, there’s nowhere to hide.
People are looking at you. Counting on you. Expecting you to hold it all together while smiling through the chaos, the customs issues, the yoga teacher’s hangover, the WiFi going down, and someone’s gluten-free meltdown at breakfast.
But here’s the truth bomb you need:
Your job isn’t to be perfect. It’s to be present.
To hold space.
To lead with heart.
To keep the wheels on the bus while everyone else is Instagramming from the back seat.
If that means standing in front of the mirror every day, saying “I’m good enough” a hundred damn times?
Do it.
Shout it.
Write it in lipstick.
Tattoo it on your soul if you have to.
Because that “emotional side” of your brain?
It’s not your enemy.
It’s your inner kid, your teenage self, your vulnerable human heart just wanting to feel safe.
Talk to her.
Thank her.
Then get back to work making f*cking magic.
You’ve done harder things.
You’re still standing.
And no one else could build your kind of retreat, because no one else has lived your kind of life.
So when you feel small, remember this:
You are not the talent. You are the alchemist.
And that? That’s the most powerful role of all.