How to Handle Imposter Syndrome
You’re an imposter.
You secretly know that you don’t measure up and worry that others will discover this secret.
You assume that because you know how something could be done—and yet aren’t able to do it—you’re failing.
But wait, just because we know something doesn’t mean we can do it.
Plenty of people know they should exercise after work but instead collapse in a heap on the couch.
The only difference between calling yourself “totally exhausted” versus “an imposter” is that you sense the judging, expectant gaze of the people to whom you feel you’ve sold the image of yourself as some kind of fitness master.
You say to yourself, “REAL fitness masters wouldn’t lay here on this couch. They would be out there working out, pushing through. I’m such a fake.”
According to researchers, however, knowing is a shockingly small part of doing.
That said, knowing must precede doing. So if you’re seeking any level of mastery or skill in a domain, you’re always going to know more than what you can do.
So instead of beating yourself up for not doing, you should congratulate yourself for knowing more.
Because honestly the alternatives are worse:
Worse alternative A: Thinking you know everything and are doing everything perfectly.
Worse alternative B: Rejecting knowledge that doesn’t match what you’re doing.
These delusions may give you a sense of congruence in the short term, but over time you’ll become stagnant while the world passes you by.
If you’re serious about what you do, neither of those alternatives are going to be OK with you.
I’m a life coach.
The ways I can feel like an imposter are basically infinite.
Compared to what I know, my actual life is full of moments and areas that don’t measure up to the ideal of human potential as described by spirituality, philosophy, psychology, science, etc.
Anytime I’m not living my best life or being my best self, I can feel like an imposter.
In those moments, I feel the judging gaze of others to whom I’ve sold an image of myself as a professional who helps others live their best lives and be their best selves.
I hear others say: Who do you think you are? How can you help others when you can’t even help yourself? Do you really know what you’re doing? You suck at this. You’re worthless.
Except these attacks are not from the outside, they’re from the inside: My Inner Critic.
When this happens I have two main options
My automatic reaction
My effortful response
Option 1 is honestly just easier. It doesn’t take any work at all to be on autopilot. My fight-or-flight response comes up and I either fight with or run from my Critic like I have a million times before.
Fighting my Critic looks like me angrily forcing and pushing myself. I’m trying to prove it wrong. I want to shut it up. So I stuff down my feelings and sensations and erect myself in the image of what I should be. (Hint: this leads to burnout)
Running from my Critic looks like procrastination. I avoid my Critic by avoiding any meaningful activity. So oh, look, there are dishes that need to be done. This book looks interesting. What’s for early lunch?
The irony is that when I let my Critic’s attacks get to me, I acknowledge them as true.
But what if they’re not entirely true? What if they’re just the frantic hyperboles of a part of me that’s freaking out?
This leads me to Option 2.
My effortful response requires, well, effort. It literally takes more energy and time to interrupt autopilot and garner an intentional response.
I turn towards my Critic and calmly invite it into a conversation.
I know it’s trying to protect me from pain, failure, embarrassment, so it’s incredibly sensitive to any threat. This is a talent I appreciate even if I don’t always need it, and I tell my Critic so.
I listen to what it’s saying and usually learn a thing or two about how I’ve stepped out of alignment with my integrity.
I thank it for its service.
Then from my whole self, I evaluate what I’ve learned based on what is useful and not. I look at the big picture and think of some ideas for how to step back into alignment with myself.
Lastly, I make a decision about what I’ll do based on those ideas.
The entire process takes 5 to 10 minutes. My Critic backs down, I formulate a better action plan than I would have otherwise, and I get to feel a sense of appreciation and friendship for my Critic while it feels a sense of trust back in me.
So the next time you’re feeling like an imposter, pause and try this effortful response. I recommend taking it as literal as you can: Talk out loud to your Critic, or write or type out your dialogue.
As long as you can engage calmly with your Critic, you will not be a slave to it.
And when your decisions come from your whole self rather than just one freaked out part, you can rest assured that you’re doing your best.
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Hi. My name is Eddie, and I work with overachievers who feel burned out. A lot of overachievers struggle with Imposter Syndrome due to loud Inner Critics they’ve been battling with since they were kids. If this sounds like you and you’d like some help with this issue, feel free to reach out.