Imposter Syndrome
The Soul Message We Need to Hear About This Societal Malady
Shedding our skin is what life is all about
Imposter syndrome in action
You’re standing at the front of a packed auditorium, delivering an innovative, fresh keynote speech. When you practiced before the mirror, you looked and felt confident.
But now, seeing so many smart, talented, and creative people staring back at you from the audience, pangs of doubt overcome you. You imagine anyone else out there would be better suited to the job. You fear they might ask a question you can’t answer. You feel like an imposter.
You take your child for a well-visit. The doctor says your child is well-adjusted, healthy, and happy. She congratulates you on the wonderful parenting you’re doing.
But instead of feeling proud, shame floods your body as you recall last night’s meltdown over nothing but a pile of toys on the floor. And what if the doctor knew your child is still wearing yesterday’s clothing because she refuses to change? Or that when you rinsed the breakfast bowls, you had a sneaking suspicion that the milk was spoiled?
Your meltdown ended with two (three?) glasses of wine while watching re-runs of “The Office,” all the while berating yourself over what a horrible imposter of a mother you are.
Unworthiness, constant comparison, struggling with perfectionism, never feeling enough—these are the tell-tale signs of Imposter Syndrome.
We imagine so many others who could do what we do, but smarter, faster, and funnier. They were born to do it, we think. Why are we pretending?
No way does Stephen King have Imposter Syndrome, right? Not Gwyneth Paltrow, or Brené Brown, either. That sweet mom on the corner? She’s a natural mom. We’re just an imposter.
I don’t know anyone who hasn’t experienced Imposter Syndrome in at least one aspect of their life. Still, I’m often surprised when accomplished and confident people express their symptoms under cover of wine and darkness.
“You feel that way?” I ask, incredulous.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I feel like I’m just faking it, and I have this chronic fear that someone will tell me to stop.”
“Yes, me too,” I say, “every time I write, I feel this.”
“You do?” she asks with surprise.
“All the time!”
The standard advice given to combat Imposter Syndrome is to build up our self-esteem. Apparently, if we build it high enough, it turns into a wall that prevents Imposter Syndrome from getting in.
God, I hope not.
Of course, there is a place and purpose for building self-esteem. I’ll get to that later.
But first, let’s take a step back and ask: is Imposter Syndrome really a disease for which we need a cure? Or, could this feeling be pointing to something else entirely, and we just need a little reframing?
An ego’s desire
When we say we have Imposter Syndrome, that’s our ego talking. It makes sense; the culture runs on ego, and often we do, too. So that’s not a judgment. It’s just an acknowledgment.
But the ego has a short life span, relatively speaking, and as a result, is short-sighted. Because of this short-sightedness, the ego views success within our jobs and roles as crucial to our—its—survival.
To ensure its survival, the ego feeds on praise and validation from the outside world. In its calculation, the most efficient way to get this is to merge with our roles so seamlessly that we slowly forget we might’ve ever wanted to be anything else or more.
The ego can’t grasp the concept that a role might have no purpose other than offering a learning opportunity, or as a stepping stone to something new, or a chance to meet a new friend we might not otherwise have met. Not only can the ego not grasp this concept, but it fears this kind of experimental life—a fluid life, in which we slither and slide from role to role without guilt or obligation.
While not ill-intentioned, I’ve had friends tease me about how many various iterations of “me” I’ve explored. To them, perhaps, I never seem satisfied. Or they can’t understand why I’ve invested so time and money into a project or venture only to let it go. These teasings used to make me feel irresponsible and flighty. Now I just say, “You think that’s good, wait ’til you see my next skin!”
Every single one of our roles will one day come to an end, or they will change so significantly that an ending was naturally, even if invisibly, folded inside. If we are overly-attached to our roles when the time comes, we will cling. If we’re forced to leave anyway, we will suffer.
It is healthier to stay loose and flexible inside our roles, unattached, playful, and light, so we can be like a snake shedding its skin when the time comes—ready or not.
The shadow side of self-esteem
When we are young, building up self-esteem is vital to establishing an identity in the world. It is part of the human journey to see ourselves as separate individuals with unique thoughts, dreams, and gifts. Over the years, ego-boosting from ourselves and others makes us feel special and important. It’s crucial to develop healthy self-esteem from which to develop and use our voice and gifts.
But too much self-esteem can be just as damaging as too little, especially as we get older and (hopefully) have internalized self-worth. If we have, we will be able to move through life’s changing roles and identities with the grace and fluidity of our eternal, timeless souls.
A soul’s viewpoint
I think our souls would laugh themselves silly at how we try to rid ourselves of Imposter Syndrome by more fully inflating ourselves within a persona. Or, perhaps, they would cry.
Our souls understand the temporary, fleeting nature of human life and the short-lived nature of the roles we take on. Our soul knows the concepts of permanence and perfection belong to the ego alone.
As souls, we joyfully play the part of the driven, bold executive. For a little while. We see the humor in the mom’s meltdown—these days will pass. We wear, temporarily, the mask of a struggling artist.
Our soul came here to learn, grow, and evolve through the many roles we play in a single lifetime. Remember?
Some of what we tell ourselves when we’re having an attack of Imposter Syndrome is true—for example, there will always be someone who could perform our role better.
But none of them can do it the way we do it.
Others could write a book that touches on the same themes, or paint a picture of the same bridge. But no one else would use the same turns of phrase in their book. Nobody else could express the sunlight over that bridge quite like you can.
From our personal roles to our professional careers to our creative outlets, we are simply souls-in-body, exploring different characters and personalities to see what we can learn.
Our souls know that we are always becoming, but we never become. We are ever-evolving, but we are never fully and finally evolved.
To our soul, life is all Shakespeare. To be or not to be, he asks. I prefer not to be, if that means I’m free to play, to grow, and to move on when I’m ready.
Embracing imposter syndrome
We are only temporarily visiting this place called Earth. To feel like an imposter is to embody that knowledge.
To feel like we’re not good enough in a role, that it doesn’t fit just right, that perhaps we are just tourists here checking things out for a few decades or so is to hear our soul’s message that it’s all just a masquerade anyway.
Imposter Syndrome is not a disease to be cured. Imposter Syndrome is our soul keepin’ it real.
So when Imposter Syndrome shows up for you, don’t let anyone, not even yourself, suggest that the problem is with your self-esteem.
Instead, remind yourself that we are more interesting than any single role we play, and larger than even the most renowned character we ever could inhabit. And, that we’re just here for a quick spin around the block.
Deliver the presentation. Take the job. Raise the kid. Write the book. Paint a picture of the bridge. Do it all with the forgiveness, fun, grace, and humor of an earth-journeying, unbound, and utterly unattached soul.