The Weight of Impostor Syndrome

Talk of impostor syndrome is almost memetic at the moment. If you don’t know what it is, go look it up.  I’ll wait.

Like lots of other people, I struggle with this constantly. I’m not as smart as everybody else in the room. I’m not as good a coder. I’m not as good a manager. Sooner or later I will be found out for what I am: an impostor.

Thing is, I can rationally defeat many of those things by looking at objective evidence. I recite the evidence to myself. I am smart: my IQ is nearly 150. I wrote a programming book that some people really like – note I first wrote that as “great”, deleted it, wrote “best-selling”, deleted it, and settled for “some people really like”. I have worked on some interesting coding projects. I manage a successful team at an interesting company doing things that are technically difficult and that will hopefully make a difference in the world.

But in the back of my brain, a little voice says, that was just luck.

I recently realized that impostor syndrome is present in all parts of my life, not just in my career.  Everyone is better at riding horses than I am, even though I’ve been doing it since I was four. My fiction writing sucks, and my critique group will eject me once they figure it out.  My house is messier than everyone else’s, and I think I’m a terrible cook. I can’t co-ordinate my wardrobe.

The worst part is standing at the playground, thinking that every other parent there knows what they are doing except for me.

I have to remind myself these things aren’t true. Every day. I heard some good advice recently, which was to speak to yourself as if you were your best friend. You wouldn’t say to your best friend, “You’re an idiot”, now, would you? Even if your BFF did something objectively stupid, you might tell them, “You’re not stupid. We all do dumb things, sometimes.”

How about you? If you have strategies for overcoming impostor syndrome, share them in the comments.