Maybe you ARE an Imposter
We’re all familiar with the concept of Imposter Syndrome, which is the belief that we’re not capable, talented, or deserving enough of a particular role that we have (or one we’d like to have). Basically, that we’re a fraud who will someday be found out.
Understandably, we’re often encouraged to combat such thoughts, and look for evidence that our position is deserved. The funny thing is though, that even in the face of evidence, a lot of us still have these doubts, and - as is so often the case - objective evidence is not enough to counteract them.
As Richard Schwartz says:
“We often find that the harder we try to get rid of emotions and thoughts, the stronger they become.”
Let’s try a different approach...
I find it helpful to think of Imposter Syndrome as the feeling that “I don’t belong here”. It’s the sense that we’re not a “natural fit” for some particular position or identity. We can’t picture ourselves in a specific job that we’re interested in, or can’t imagine ourselves in a particular role in life - maybe in a fulfilling relationship, or as a parent, or a leader, or whatever it is.
Rather than making ourselves wrong about that, how about considering that maybe we actually do not naturally belong in that role, because of how that role was originally designed, and who it was designed for?
Looking at it this way can be freeing.
When I was a small child, about 6 years old, one day in school the teacher asked the class to put up your hand if your mother had a job (what her motivations were in asking us that, I’ll leave in the 1980s where they belong). I remember putting up my hand, and feeling intensely proud to be able to do that. I had no real concept of what the stakes were at that age - I just knew I felt proud of my mother for doing something that I felt was admirable, for reasons I was too young to articulate.
Looking at my 6-year-old experience through this lens, I think I recognised at the time, in some proto way, that my mother was an imposter. She was bucking a trend. She recently talked about how, at that time, most of the women around her did leave jobs once they had children, and how isolated she felt at times. If she had stayed in her first role, she would have been legally forced to resign once she got married, due to the “Marriage bar” in Irish law at the time, which banned women from working in the Civil Service after marriage.
I’m not for a moment saying that objectively, the choice to work rather than be a stay-at-home parent is inherently superior for women - I’m the staunchest supporter of all individuals being able to make the right choices for their own lives (which, in reality, we are far from achieving). Research shows that mothers’ mental health and wellbeing is best served by them being able to follow the path that feels aligned for them, whatever route that is. I’m simply pointing out that my mother was in many ways going against the grain of that time, and I felt proud of her for her imposter status.
It’s just one example of so many I can think of, of people working their way into roles that they have traditionally been excluded from, implicitly or explicitly.
With that in mind, I’d like to encourage you to consider EMBRACING imposter syndrome.
If you have fought your way into a space that didn’t traditionally welcome people like you, that is something to feel deeply proud of. And the higher the barriers to getting there, the more deeply this is true.
Rather than trying to convince your brain to square a circle, and short-circuit thoughts such as “I don’t belong here” (that may have an element of truth in them) how about simply accepting those feelings? If you're the first person in your family to go to college, or you're a stay-at-home dad in a realm dominated by women, or you’re the only minority in the room, how could you not feel like an imposter? In some sense you are one. Asking your system to feel welcome in a space that has traditionally not been welcoming feels like an unfair demand in an already stressful situation.
None of this is to say that you don’t objectively belong, on any empirical metric. But conceptually, you already know that. That knowledge doesn’t seem to help the feelings, and so weighing the evidence of your worthiness often won’t allay the sense of doubt that a lot of us feel.
An alternative would be to acknowledge the emotional truth of any discomfort or otherness you are feeling, and allowing yourself the time and space to move through that, and, hopefully, to build a sense of belonging over time. Cultivate supportive relationships, where others who love you will remind you of your worth, and do that work for the people you love too.
Maya Angelou talked about the sacrifices of our ancestors in creating the choices and opportunities that we have today. It may not feel 100% comfortable at first, but in her words:
“Your crown has been bought and paid for. Put it on your head and wear it.”
I would encourage you, in any situation in which you are questioning your sense of belonging, to consider owning your outsider status, where there may be some truth to it. As a species, we categorise and other people so easily, and so few of us fit the “correct” boxes. If you’ve done the hard work of kicking a door open to get in the room, please congratulate yourself for that achievement, own your imposter syndrome, and do your best to get some other imposters in there with you. They’re needed.
