Imposter Monster

When I first became a therapist, I was nervous to share it with people outside of my immediate circle. I was worried that people who had known me as an adolescent would wonder what business I had joining this profession. And, I myself doubted my own merit. Who was I to help people walk through difficult experiences when I was still struggling with my own? That’s when I realized I wasn’t picturing the Me who had spent nearly a decade teaching children how to understand and communicate their feelings. I wasn’t referring to the Me who had spent the past three years studying to make sure she was well informed when she walked in the room with her clients. Nor was I thinking of the Me who was inspired to transition from education to counseling thanks to her own experience of self-improvement.

No, I was thinking of teenage Me - the girl who was so riddled with insecurity that she oscillated between being passive aggressively independent and being a debilitating people pleaser. She was so determined to appear as if she was “okay” that she didn’t really learn how to express her own emotions in a safe or productive way. I was embarrassed of that girl. I wondered to myself, what business does she have being a therapist? 

But then I remembered - she wasn’t a therapist. She was a teenage girl. Of course she was nervous and confused about her place in the world. She - like every other teenager - was overwhelmed by the process of figuring out the lines between who she was, who she wanted to be, and who she was seen as by her peers, her family, and society in general. When I consider her in that light, I think of the numerous teens I’ve worked with as a teacher and as a counselor. Have I ever faulted them for the way they face the challenges of growing up? Of course not. Have I ever condemned an adult who is still haunted by mistakes they or others made in their childhood? Absolutely not. 

So, why do I do it to myself? 

I share this not to toot a horn and celebrate a value I’ve discovered in myself, but to illustrate the way imposter syndrome has shown up in my life - and I’m not the only one who has met it. Imposter syndrome is the little voice that challenges your worth or ability to fill a certain role. Its favorite lie is to tell you that you are not _____ enough. Perhaps the little monster tells you that you aren’t patient or present enough to be a good parent. Maybe it’s that you aren’t smart enough to pursue a promotion or a new career. Sometimes, it picks on your social life and argues that you aren’t funny or attractive or rich enough to be enjoyable company. 

The worst part about it, though, is that it isn’t unique. Imposter syndrome isn’t a rare occurrence that can be taken down by a box breath or single mantra. Imposter syndrome is what happens when our insecurities are given power and a voice. It is the universal experience of falling back into adolescence as we question (yet again) our place in the world. It makes us feel small because it reminds us of when we were small. And oh, if only those little selves could hear the way we talk about them. I doubt they’d like it. I doubt we’d allow it. 

So, why do we do this to ourselves? 

There isn’t a one-size fits all answer here. Some learned to second-guess themselves at home. Others picked it up from friends and society, social media.. Then there are those who began questioning their worth after a specific instance told them they should, after an experience that invites question. That self-checking and self-questioning is good in so many ways, but also keeps the door open for doubt to feed the imposter monster. However, It is less important why we started listening to them and more important to understand why we continue to listen to them.

The truth is, insecurities will always exist. What matters more is learning how to respond when they do. That’s the secret sauce for minimizing the imposter monster: knowing that it doesn’t happen in one fell swoop, but in developing the discipline to doubt the insecurity more than you doubt yourself. It’s not as simple as flipping a switch, of course, but that’s where it starts. In the same way that I wouldn’t hold my clients, my friends, or my family to the same standards that I hold myself, I doubt you would either. When you hear that voice of fear tell you how insignificant/worthless/inexperienced/etc you are, consider how you would respond to it if it sent the same message to your child or your sibling. What would you say to any bully who whispered these things to them? The first step right there is just acknowledging that bully and saying “Hey, I see what you’re doing and I don’t like it.” 

It can also be helpful to talk about it. Remember the times you’ve battled it and won. Talk about the times you didn’t feel like such a champion. Talk to your trusted circle about your experiences with it - not to give it power, but to allow others to doubt it with you. Let yourself hear the praises of your strengths that you would cheer on in others and want so badly for them to believe, too. Slowly, over time, you can get better at finding new ways to challenge that doubt-eating imposter monster, and you can become great at recognizing when it’s creeping in and how to shut it down. It happens to all of us, no matter your level of expertise or credentials. Sometimes having a compassionate relationship with that teenage-version of yourself helps, and sometimes you need some reminders and practice… and that’s expected and okay, too.