‘You Feel Like a Fraud, a Fake’: Fighting Imposter Syndrome
By Tamara Gillingham
When you’ve always had your identity dictated by others, it’s hard not to feel apathetic and alone around people, trapped or stuck. Your mind races after answering simple questions like, what’s your favourite food? What’s your political stance? You don’t know your left from right or up from down because you’ve always gotten your thoughts and opinions from someone else. You can be easily influenced, which leaves you feeling anxious about what you said and how it reflects on you. You feel like a fraud, a fake, an imposter in your own skin.
If this sounds like you, it’s time to give yourself a break.
We grow up believing what others tell us. We remember comments from our parents, family members, and even from our teachers. You begin to believe things about yourself from other people’s perceptions of you. These preconceived notions about who you are fundamentally inside are not attributes you need to believe or take on. You find them within – they’re not to be set by external sources.
Like all millennials, we don’t have a friggin’ clue what’s going on. Our mental health is questionable at times, and we fob off a breakdown as easily as stubbing our little toe. So, when it comes to ‘owning our shit’ and saying ‘I’m the shit’, our knees go weak and our voices break. In reality, we think more laterally than the big wigs above us, and put in the hours required. We work damn hard. So why do we find it hard to say I am capable, and why do we find it hard to believe that we deserve a seat at the table?
Imposter syndrome is loosely defined as doubting your abilities and feeling like a fraud. It disproportionately affects high-achieving people, who find it difficult to accept their accomplishments. Many question whether they're deserving. It involves feelings of self-doubt and personal incompetence that persist despite your education, experience, and accomplishments. To counter these feelings, you might end up working harder and holding yourself to ever higher standards, but this toxic hustle culture is no good for anyone.
Some of the common signs of imposter syndrome include:
Self-doubt.
An inability to realistically assess your competence and skills.
Attributing your success to external factors.
Berating your performance.
Fear that you won't live up to expectations.
Overachieving.
Sabotaging your own success.
If you’ve felt like you’ve cheated your way to the table or have been given a job without feeling like you have the right skill-set, then you might be experiencing imposter syndrome. You don’t have to prove yourself constantly out of fear of being ‘found out’ or fear of losing your job if someone says, “how the hell did you get here? Get out.” Not feeling good enough is insidious, and unfortunately so common.
Every so often, you need to take stock of where you are and how hard you’ve worked to get there. Take a deep breath, ground your feet, and remember who the hell you are. You are a deserving, empowered and capable person, able to achieve anything you set your mind to. You don’t need validation from others to feel like you’ve earned or deserve what you have.
Sometimes, it’s hard to give ourselves the recognition we deserve. I didn’t get the grade that I told everyone I achieved at university, and that fills me with so much shame. I haven’t told anyone close to me the truth except my boyfriend and twin sister. I feel as if people will judge me for not being intelligent or for not applying myself. Even though I know the truth – that my mental health took a downward turn in my final year – and that I did the best I could under the circumstances.
Yet I can’t wrap my head around the shame. Maybe we’re scared to say what’s in our head and admit what hasn’t gone too well out of fear of judgement. The thing is, I have passed recruitment interviews and garnered two successful jobs in medical sales. My degree result didn’t matter to them, so why does it matter to me? I think the lower grade and social anxiety is my kryptonite. I feel as though I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting to be found out and for people to realise that I don’t belong in sales.
That’s my imposter syndrome secret. What’s yours? Maybe together, we can own it. We’re all in this shit storm together, whether we like it or not. We’ve got this.