Have you ever had such a strong fear or belief of being a fraud in some aspect of your life, with every success being attributed to luck rather than your own talent or skill? Ever been overwhelmed by the constant feeling that you aren’t good enough or aren’t deserving of recognition?
In case you didn’t know, this is called Imposter Syndrome, which is defined by the American Psychological Association (APA) as a “phenomenon [that] occurs among high achievers who are unable to internalize and accept their success.” Although it isn’t officially cited in any editions of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), the APA found a close relationship between Imposter Syndrome, anxiety, and depression. While I haven’t been clinically diagnosed with either anxiety or depression, I have experienced both in my connection to Imposter Syndrome. It’s something I’ve struggled with for most of my life: artistically, feeling like I’m not worthy of success; romantically, feeling like I’m undeserving of love; and culturally, feeling like I don’t belong in my ethnic group.
My imposter syndrome as a writer is plain and simple: I often believe my writing isn’t good enough compared to my peers’. While I’ve been fortunate enough to publish poems and make a name for myself in the local poetry community, there are times when I question my accomplishments and fall into the dark hole of negative thinking. (Ironically, even writing this article, I kept second-guessing my writing!) My thoughts sometimes sound like “That poem I got published last year is the best one I’ll ever write; it was just a one-time thing” or “I should just keep my writing to myself because other people will judge it.” Of course, constructive criticism is beneficial for anyone to improve their skills, but it can be hard for me not to interpret it as a personal judgment.
When it comes to relationships, my Imposter Syndrome manifests into a belief that I’m undeserving of love and support. For example, as someone who’s lost friends and potential romantic partners because I was simply not someone they wanted me to be. I’ve been called “too annoying” or “too heartless” by others and my high school boyfriend dumped me because I wasn’t his ex, so it’s been hard to feel like I’m good enough. In my current relationship, I’m constantly plagued by the fear that I’m undeserving of my boyfriend’s love and affection. It’s not his fault at all, and there’s nothing wrong with an occasional “Wow, how did I ever get to date you” sentiment. With my Imposter Syndrome, however, I regularly question my value in the relationship. Any time I “kill the mood” or accidentally hurt my boyfriend’s feelings, I take it as a sign that I’m destined to mess things up as a way to prove I don’t deserve love. In other words, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy where the “false reality” I believe in (that I’m undeserving of love) actually becomes as a result of my thoughts and actions (for example, pushing my boyfriend away because I think I hurt him, which pushing away does hurt him).
Culturally, as a second-generation Mexican-American in the U.S., it’s hard enough to feel like I belong in either group, let alone both. My parents have always primarily spoken to me in English, so I grew up with more confidence in this language than in Spanish. Ever since my first year in school, I’ve found myself in situations where my struggle to speak Spanish fluently has not only become a barrier but a downright source of shame. For one, I was placed in a bilingual kindergarten class, but after that, I was given English-only classes. During my Freshman year of high school, I was placed in a Native-Speaker Spanish class because my counselor assumed based on my Hispanic last name (Leaños) that I could speak it fluently. I had to wait almost two weeks to get moved out, and I was constantly anxious that I’d be called on during class – what if I mispronounced something or failed to properly translate what I wanted to say? Even now, I’m placed in situations where I need to communicate in Spanish, and while my fluency has improved in recent years, it can still be a struggle for me.
Having dealt with it often and in different ways throughout my life, I do have a few tips for combating “Imposter feelings.” When it comes to writing, I remind myself that there’s always an audience for everything, so it’s bound to mean something to someone. I also try to acknowledge that my accomplishments aren’t just luck, but a testament to my skills. For relationships, I remind myself that I shouldn’t have to compromise myself just to please someone else. While it’s never easy to lose a friend, anyone who doesn’t recognize or appreciate my authentic self is simply not worth it. Self affirmations like “I am deserving of good things” and “I am more than enough” may feel narcissistic at times, but they’re a nice, simple way to boost self-esteem in any situation.
Imposter Syndrome isn’t commonly discussed, let alone known, so I hope that in sharing my experiences, you’ve learned something new. I personally can’t remember when I learned about Imposter Syndrome, but as soon as I gained the language to label my experience, I felt less alone. As someone who’s been on the receiving end of support, the simplest and most meaningful way to support someone is by listening to them and their experiences. Whatever you’ve gone through or may currently be going through, language and labels do not define you in any way – they simply exist to help us navigate the world and find ways to empower ourselves. So whether you or someone you know is experiencing Imposter Syndrome, I hope this article provides you with some information, tips, and acknowledgement.