The Beauty of Imposter Syndrome

What if you feel Imposter Syndrome because you're a trailblazer?

What if you feel Imposter Syndrome because you're in a space that isn't familiar to you, or wasn't designed for you initially?

In the tech world, I used to feel Imposter Syndrome when I was in the room with executives at well-known companies. I would over-prepare, self-criticize, and work to the point of total exhaustion, always shocked that people gave me any kind of authority to be pitching expansions and negotiating contracts.

Eventually, I realized that I - a child of immigrants, a person with ADHD, a woman, a person without a Master's Degree - was entering rooms I never thought I would, being paid a salary that transcended every previous generation of my family, comfortable and safe. I was holding power that I hadn't encountered before, while often around people who didn't look or think like me.

And that shrunk my Imposter Syndrome from a big bad villain, to a shy little kid asking, "Do we really belong here?" And I would tell her, "Yes, we do."

Fast forward to my work in the therapy world, I started this career with similar anxieties. Did I have what it took to help people heal? Was I making the right clinical decisions in session? Was I the right person for the task?

And again, my Intergenerational Higher Self stepped in. Not only do I have the privilege of tending to my mental health, which previous generations couldn't always do, but I had the audacity, to make that work my professional path. Becoming a therapist meant leaving comfort and predictability behind, which was something my ancestors waited every day for. I was essentially rejecting what I was taught to strive for, and I was learning a new set of skills doing it.

If you're encountering imposter syndrome in any way right now, I want to invite you to slow down and be with it. Ask it questions. Connect to the fear underneath the criticism and anxiety. You'll learn a lot.

And you'll teach that part of you, that where there isn't a seat at the table for you, you can always bring a folding chair (to quote the great Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman elected to Congress in 1968).