As we grow and move into new roles, or step into new situations, it’s common to feel inadequate—like we don’t belong, aren’t ready, or are not up to the task. Imposter syndrome is often the name we give to this feeling– the nagging belief that we’re about to be exposed as a fraud. We doubt ourselves, our accomplishments, or who we are, and feel that we don’t deserve to be where we are. We’re in this situation via some cosmic joke or error. Often we feel this way in professional settings—after a promotion, a new job, or stepping into a position of leadership. But the dynamic is not limited to work. These feelings often arise as our role in the world changes, and to some extent are an inherent part of growth..
For example, becoming a parent can spark these doubts. So can meeting someone we admire, graduating from school, starting a new relationship, or beginning recovery. In these moments, we feel a need to step into a new, better version of ourselves. While an urge to do better can be motivating, feeling the need to to be better is just a different way of saying that right now, we feel inadequate. We are left with a sense that we should somehow already be better, wiser, or more prepared than we are. In some way, we are falling short.
This discomfort often arises from the stories we tell ourselves. For example: “This person is so accomplished, they’ll only respect me if I’m perfect at [blank].” Or: “Now that I’ve graduated from [blank], I’m supposed to know all of this material.” Or: “As a parent, I’m expected to have all the answers for my children, and never make a mistake.” These narratives we tell ourselves create unrealistic expectations for us to hold ourselves to, which increases the pressure we put on ourselves to appear flawless.
When we perceive that the stakes are high, we tend to raise our expectations of ourselves—and sometimes, that’s a great thing. When we have high expectations, we need to work hard to do the best we can. But we do need to be deliberate about understanding where our real strength lies. Sometimes, in order to impress others– to appear more competent, more knowledgeable, more prepared– we undercut the very qualities that have served us well. In trying to appear a certain way, we cover up the traits that create connection and trust. We hide our uncertainty instead of sharing it. We mask our curiosity under the banner of being smart, instead of leaning into it. The irony is that in the process of trying to appear a certain way, we undercut the very pathways that would allow us to thrive.
What we perceive as vulnerability that needs to be hidden is often strength in disguise. A student may feel pressure to suddenly “know everything” after graduation, but the openness to learning and questioning is exactly what will serve them going forward. A new leader may believe they must now be firm and authoritative, shutting down dissent. But great leaders are often the best listeners, the most curious learners, and the ones most open to feedback. The qualities we think we need to suppress or hide or compensate for are often the ones that actually show us the way forward. In chasing success, we sometimes abandon what made us successful.
The clarity of what makes us each wonderful and unique can be hard to hold onto. Many of the internal beliefs we carry about what makes us notable—being credentialed, being accomplished, being competent, being admired— don’t actually align with what actually makes us worthy or special. A scientist might win accolades for her discoveries, but it’s her humility and curiosity that allowed her to make them. She might receive external validation for the results of her work, for finding out a new answer, but the really remarkable thing is her willingness to say I don’t know and to be humble about what is known. Our perceived vulnerability is often our strength—but leading with it, especially when we feel increased pressure on ourselves, can feel unfamiliar, even unnatural.
Confidence in ourselves allows us to step forward with our perceived shortcomings. When we’re grounded in who we are, it’s easier to say, “I don’t know,” or to acknowledge our limits. Confidence rooted in insecurity leads to swagger or braggadocio, but confidence rooted in knowing oneself, from having peace and acceptance within, allows us to meet the world with truly our best foot forward.
Grounded self-confidence does not grow from more accomplishments or more self-criticism—we have to meet ourselves with gentleness instead. We don’t accept ourselves more fully by pushing harder or criticizing more. We gain peace, and thereby confidence, by welcoming all parts of ourselves —especially the parts that feel uncertain, unprepared, or afraid. In order to do that, in order to create the internal space for the things that scare us, we need internal conditions of safety and kindness. We need to offer ourselves warmth. Trying to be flawless does not help us become whole or confident, does not help us put our best foot forward. We become whole by embracing the parts of ourselves that feel unsure.
Because all of us have self-doubt and insecurity, accepting those parts of ourselves allows us to recognize and accept doubts and insecurities in others as well. When we are insecure or hurt inside, we cover it with lies and end up hurting others. When we are at peace inside, we can bring this peace to others.
Cheers,
Doc
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