Some Thoughts on Imposter Syndrome

I don’t think I’ve ever had imposter syndrome

Don’t get me wrong...I’ve been afraid, uncertain, overwhelmed.

I’ve doubted myself.

I’ve felt like I wasn’t good enough.

I’ve tried to prove I’m lovable.

I’ve questioned my worth.

But I’ve never felt like an imposter.

I’ve always believed I could figure it out...whatever it is.

And if I couldn’t? I’d pivot. Adjust. Find another way.

Growing up, my sister was brilliant beyond description and naturally artistic.

My brother was a magical soul and basically a musician from the crib.

Those things were true. I never questioned them.

Me? I was labeled a “people pleaser.” Not as a compliment, more like a diagnosis.

I was told I wasn’t artistic.

I didn’t even try to be brilliant, magical, or musical.

In 8th grade, my English teacher told me I was a poor writer.

In high school, when my classmates were talking college, my guidance counselor (also the football coach...make of that what you will) looked me in the eye and said I probably wasn’t smart enough for college.

I applied anyway. Two schools. Got into both...on the strength of my essay.

Suck it, 8th-grade-English-teacher.

I didn’t finish, though. No college degree. And for years in corporate, I carried that around like a scarlet letter.

When I first applied at the financial institution where I ended up spending 24 years, I was told I wasn’t the kind of person they were looking for.

It was a bank teller job. $7.35 an hour.

Was it my miniskirt? Who knows.

A few weeks later, HR called to apologize and offered me the job.

Years later, I applied for a training role and was told I wasn’t “approachable enough.”

I’m totally fucking approachable. Ask anyone I like.

But I noted the feedback.

I learned how to appear more approachable. Got the next training job I applied for.

Stayed there 18 years. Built my own team. Moved into leadership.

I remember early on, standing in front of a room thinking:

Why me? Why should I be teaching these people?

What if I got it wrong?

Then I decided I just needed to know a little more than my audience.

That’s been my approach ever since.

I share all of this to say:

My path wasn’t smooth.

I had plenty of reasons to doubt my worth, my intelligence, my creativity.

But I kept going. I kept learning. I kept showing up.

And yes, I learned I’d have to work harder.

I’d have to prove myself.

I’d have to put myself in the right rooms.

I started learning about neuroplasticity back in 2013 when I was working as a Learning & Development manager.

At the time, we were teaching some painfully dry content, and I wanted to understand how adults actually learn so we could make it easier for them to get it and retain it. That was the goal.

But what really lit me up wasn’t how I applied it at work.

It was the realization that we can literally change our minds.

That was a turning point for me. It was the beginning of the path I’m still on.

So let me nutshell it, especially as it relates to impostor syndrome or any sneaky story that holds you back.

Just to be clear, I am massively simplifying the brain and nervous system here.

If we think something often enough, it carves a neural pathway.

That pathway becomes a route our brain and nervous system can access easily and return to without much effort.

Take impostor syndrome. We'll use me as our example.

Let’s say I feel shaky or unsure and I tell myself, “I have imposter syndrome.”

My brain hears that. And it listens.

Say it a few more times, and now the brain starts scanning for proof.

Keep repeating it, and eventually the brain files it as truth.

It stops being a thought and becomes part of your identity.

Now I don’t just feel like an imposter sometimes. I believe I am one.

Next... let’s talk about the amygdala.

It’s a tiny almond-shaped part of your brain tucked into the limbic system, and its main job is to detect threats.

Survival is its priority.

So if everything stays the same, no matter how miserable you are, it considers that a win.

Change, on the other hand, is a threat.

That’s why wearing a color you don’t usually wear or taking a new route to work can make you feel weirdly anxious.

Thanks, amygdala.

When we start making changes in our lives, setting boundaries, quitting jobs, showing up differently, the amygdala tries to pump the brakes.

It’s doing its job, trying to keep you “safe” (also known as stuck) in the known.

Back when saber-toothed tigers were a thing, this made sense.

But now? The tigers are gone, and your amygdala has adapted to whisper more modern fears:

You’re not good enough.

You’ll be rejected.

You’ll fail.

You’ll look ridiculous.

So we play small.

We say we have imposter syndrome.

And then we let that label define us.

I work with extraordinary women. They're amazing. Every single one of them.

But almost all of them, at some point, say they have imposter syndrome.

It usually comes up when they’re thinking about something they want to do or wish they had done.

I'ts not about something they’ve already accomplished.

And let me tell you, they’ve accomplished things. Big things. Important things.

And even though I might not know you personally, dear reader, I’m willing to bet you have too.

Because women get things done.

But many of us are carrying the weight of living in systems that were never designed to support us.

We’ve been dismissed. Underpaid. Undervalued. We’ve been told to smile more, want less, and wait our turn.

And let me say clearly: While my lived experience is that of a white woman, I know that if you aren’t white or straight, the obstacles multiply. The systems are more deeply entrenched and the challenges even greater.

But what if we all stop calling it imposter syndrome?

What if we start calling it what it is?

It’s the system.

I used to tell my team, “Surf the bullshit, but don’t fall in.” Because let’s be honest, the system is full of it.

But you? You have things to do. Lives to change. So let’s get on with it.

You don’t have to “fix” your imposter syndrome. As real as it feels, it’s not the truth of who you are.

It’s a story. With deep neural grooves that your brain’s gotten really good at following.

But you can rewrite it.

Let’s call bullshit on imposter syndrome.

Seriously. Let’s take a moment and rewire some things right now.

Imagine a future version of yourself...doing the thing your amygdala has been stopping you from doing.

Maybe it’s something bold or something quiet.

Maybe it’s something that feels far away.

So pick a version of yourself one year from now… or three… or five.

Whatever you can picture most clearly.

Can’t see it as a movie? No problem. Just imagine it as a photo.

Where are you?

What are you doing?

What are you wearing?

Are you smiling or serious?

Are you still or moving?

Are you alone or surrounded by people?

And most importantly… what does it feel like?

Go ahead. Close your eyes for a moment. Take a breath or two. Let the image come into focus.

Really. I’ll wait.

That vision, whatever you saw or sensed, is one of the keys to helping your amygdala chill out and let you grow.

Because here’s the thing: your brain doesn’t know the difference between real and imagined experiences.

Ever had a bad dream where someone you love did something terrible? You wake up mad at them even though you know it was a dream?

That’s how real imagined experiences feel to your brain.

So use that to your advantage.

When you start showing your brain where you want to go...clearly and consistently...it starts working with you instead of against you.

That future version you saw?

She’s waiting for you to catch up.

And I’m here for that.

If you'd like to read more about imposter syndrome here are a couple links to some great articles:

Stop Telling Women They Have Imposter Syndrome by Ruchika Tulshyan and Jodi-Ann Burey

Why Everyone Feels Like They’re Faking It by Leslie Jamison

And here's a great speech by Reshma Saujani at Smith College's 2023 Commencement: Imposter Syndrome is Modern-Day Bicycle Face

P.S. Whether you spell it 'imposter' or 'impostor', this all stands true. The Google says both are acceptable.