How to Beat the Imposter Phenomenon

Written by Abby Chadwick. Illustration by Avery Helmer.

Listen to the “How to Beat Imposter Phenomenon” playlist on Spotify while you read.

When I was first made aware of the imposter phenomenon, I had two initial reactions. The first was relief. There is a community that shares feelings of constant self-doubt and fear of being “found out” by those around them. This was validating and allowed me to relax into the fact that I wasn’t the only person lying awake at night wondering why it felt so uncomfortable to call my achievements “achievements.” But after the relief, a second reaction settled in: guilt. 

“Were my anxieties and my worries really so bad that I would be able to sympathize with other victims of the imposter phenomenon? Did I deserve to share that title with them?” I thought.

This reaction of guilt was likely a result of the imposter phenomenon itself. This pattern of not allowing oneself grace or sympathy is one that is far too frequent in my everyday life. And if I allow myself to struggle with the imposter phenomenon, it makes me wonder how much of who I am is really me and how much is taken up by self-doubt and striving to achieve.

Before I continue any further, I’d like to clarify the reason I’m referring to these patterns as “the imposter phenomenon” and not the more commonly used title of “imposter syndrome.” The authors of “The Imposter Phenomenon in High Achieving Women: Dynamics and Therapeutic Intervention,” Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes, were the two original “founders” of the imposter phenomenon. In a recent article with The New Yorker, the two note that the labeling of the phenomenon as a syndrome is misleading and even harmful. “The phenomenon is ‘an experience rather than a pathology,’ and their aim was always to normalize this experience rather than to pathologize it.”

With that cleared up, I’d like to include some personal background. I was an overachiever in high school. I made it my (very unrealistic) mission to be a part of every club, volunteer for every event, join the Student Council, run the yearbook committee, and attend the fishing club, all while maintaining straight A’s and spending an ungodly amount of time on homework. 

I wasn’t trying to prove something to myself. It actually went way beyond that. 

See, if I volunteered for every event, joined every club and said yes to every time someone asked me to draw up a poster, it meant that someone depended on me and needed me for something. And in my mind, that dependence was everything. By having people count on me, I was simultaneously convincing them of my worth as a person. I was proving my value in their lives and my desirability as a human being, and if I were to stop this, I was so afraid that they’d see me how I saw myself, which was utterly useless. I truly didn’t think I deserved to have a place in people’s lives if I wasn’t constantly proving myself. 

This was my personal experience with the imposter phenomenon. 

For others, it is more based on physical or intellectual skills. Many people experience the imposter phenomenon in the context of their careers and how they display themselves in the workplace. Not only are these people constantly working to prove their competence to bosses and colleagues, but they are also attempting to toe the very thin line between being seen as impressive and being seen as pretentious. The aforementioned New Yorker article uses the term “humility inflation” to describe the current social trend in which modesty and even diffidence are almost praised, as many are terrified that their extreme confidence and tenacity can so easily be misconstrued as arrogance, especially in the cases of women. 

No matter how someone may be affected by the imposter phenomenon, the one universal truth behind every experience is this: It really frickin’ sucks. I haven’t figured out how to fix it, but in my semi-extensive research, I’ve figured out a few key truths that I’d like to share.

The first of these truths is that talking to other people about these feelings makes them so much easier to deal with and allows one the ability to feel less like a crazy person. If people think that they’re the only person in their bubble that feels like a phony bologna, they’re almost 100% wrong. So, reaching out to people is pretty high on my list of tactics.

The second truth is that human beings are fallible creatures. I used to have a physics teacher in high school, and, whenever any of us would make a mistake, she’d respond with “Oh look at that; you’re human!” Making little mistakes, or even big ones, is not proof of one’s inabilities, but rather just proof that they’re alive.

Finally, the third truth, and the one that I will probably never fully grasp, is that everyone has to learn how to be a little selfish. The world is harsh, and human beings will take whatever they want from others, especially if the person taken from is a people-pleasing, imposter-stricken try-hard (a.k.a. me). Sometimes putting one’s own needs first and recognizing one’s value outside of serving others will do wonders.

At least I hope, because I’m not fully there yet.

Listen to the “How to Beat Imposter Phenomenon” playlist on Spotify.