You're sitting in that meeting again, nodding at the right moments, throwing out industry buzzwords that sound intelligent enough. Everyone seems engaged with what you're saying, maybe even impressed. Your boss gives you that approving look. Another successful performance.
But as you walk back to your desk, there's that familiar hollow feeling in your chest. Like you just pulled off some elaborate magic trick that everyone bought into, including yourself. You know what you're doing technically, but it feels like you're playing a character in a movie about your own life. The disconnection hits you again – that sense that you're watching yourself succeed from the outside, wondering when someone's going to call cut and expose the whole charade.
This is what disconnection actually feels like in the modern workplace. Not dramatic failure or obvious incompetence, but the exhausting sensation of performing competence while feeling fundamentally separate from your own achievements. You're there, but you're not really there. You're successful, but it doesn't feel like your success.
Here's what's really happening: You've become so focused on executing the role of "successful professional" that you've lost touch with the person actually doing the work. Every interaction becomes a performance to be optimized rather than a genuine moment to be experienced. You're not being present in your own life – you're managing your image within it.
This pattern runs deeper than work anxiety or career uncertainty. It's rooted in how we've been conditioned to think about success itself. From childhood, you learned that achievement meant meeting external expectations, performing the right behaviors, saying the right things. You got really good at reading the room and delivering what people wanted to see. But somewhere along the way, the performance became the default, and your actual self got buried underneath.
The disconnection you feel isn't a character flaw – it's your psyche's way of telling you that something essential is missing. When you're constantly performing a role, you're not bringing your full self to the work. You're bringing a curated version designed to avoid rejection and maintain approval. That curated version might be competent, even impressive, but it's not entirely you.
Think about it: When was the last time you spoke up in a meeting because something genuinely interested you, not because it would make you look smart? When did you last disagree with someone because you actually saw things differently, not because disagreement seemed strategic? When you're performing rather than being present, these authentic moments become rare.
The exhaustion you feel isn't from working hard – it's from the cognitive load of constantly monitoring and adjusting your performance. You're essentially running two programs simultaneously: doing your job and managing how you appear while doing your job. No wonder you feel disconnected from your own success. You're experiencing it through a filter of self-consciousness rather than direct engagement.
But here's a different way to think about what's happening: This disconnection isn't evidence that you're a fraud. It's evidence that you're capable of more authentic engagement than you're currently allowing yourself. The part of you that notices the performance, that feels separate from it, that recognizes something is missing – that's your actual self trying to get your attention.
Your competence isn't the performance. Your competence exists underneath the performance. The skills, insights, and capabilities that got you where you are – those are real. The performance is just the anxiety-driven presentation layer you've built on top of them. What you're really seeking isn't better performance, but permission to show up as yourself within your competence.
This shifts everything. Instead of trying to perform better or feel more confident about your role, you can start practicing presence within your existing capabilities. Instead of managing your image, you can start paying attention to what actually engages you about the work itself.
Start by noticing when you slip into performance mode during your day. Not to judge it or stop it immediately, but just to recognize the difference between when you're performing your job and when you're actually doing your job. There's a different quality of attention, a different relationship to time, a different felt sense in your body.
Next, identify one small area where you can experiment with being more direct and less curated. Maybe it's asking a question you're genuinely curious about rather than one that makes you look thoughtful. Maybe it's sharing an observation that interests you rather than one that positions you well. Start small, but start somewhere.
Finally, begin separating your sense of professional worth from moment-to-moment approval management. Your value doesn't come from executing perfect interactions – it comes from bringing your actual capabilities and perspective to meaningful problems. The performance is optional. The presence is what matters.
The disconnection you feel isn't permanent. It's just what happens when you prioritize appearing competent over being competent. But you can be both present and professional. You can be both authentic and effective. You just have to stop treating them like opposing forces.