I Have 25 Years of Experience and Still Feel Like I’m Going to Be “Found Out.”
The Higher I Climb, the More I Fear the Fall
My dad is a senior partner at his law firm. He’s 55 years old, respected, and at the top of his field. He recently confessed to me that he lives with a constant, low-grade fear that he’s going to be “found out.” He feels like he’s just been lucky, and that one day, someone will realize he’s a fraud who has been faking it for 30 years. It was shocking to hear. It taught me that imposter syndrome isn’t a junior-level problem; it can actually get worse with success. The higher you climb, the more you have to lose.
The Day My 28-Year-Old Boss Asked a Question I Couldn’t Answer. I Spiraled.
A Moment of Not Knowing Felt Like a Lifetime of Failure
My older colleague, a seasoned engineer, was in a meeting with his new, much younger boss. The boss asked a technical question about a new piece of software he wasn’t familiar with. For a moment, my colleague didn’t have the answer. He told me he went into a complete internal spiral. His inner critic screamed, “You’re washed up! You’re irrelevant! He knows you’re a fraud!” In reality, he just said, “That’s a great question, let me look into it and get back to you.” But that momentary gap in his knowledge felt like a confirmation of his deepest fears.
How I Finally Learned to Internalize My Own Success.
I Treated My Accomplishments Like They Happened to Someone Else
My mentor has a wall of awards in her office. One day she told me that for years, she looked at them and felt nothing. She had a psychological block where she couldn’t “internalize” her own success. She always felt like she had just gotten lucky. Her therapist had her do an exercise. She had to take one award, hold it, and tell the entire story of the hard work, the late nights, and the specific skills that went into achieving it. This practice of consciously connecting her effort to the outcome was the only thing that helped her finally own her accomplishments.
The “Imposter Cycle”: How My Midlife Anxiety Fuels My Over-Preparation.
My Fear of Failure Makes Me Work Twice as Hard, Which Guarantees Success, Which I Then Attribute to Luck
I have a coworker who is a classic “imposter cycle” victim. She gets a new project and immediately feels anxious and sure she will fail. This anxiety fuels a period of intense over-preparation, where she works twice as hard as anyone else. Because of her hard work, the project is a huge success. But instead of internalizing that success, she attributes it to luck or the fact that she “killed herself” to get it done. The temporary relief is followed by even more anxiety about the next project, as she believes she has to repeat the exhausting cycle to avoid being “found out.”
My “Accomplishments List” That I Read When I Feel Like a Fraud.
A Written Record to Combat My Irrational Feelings
My aunt, a successful entrepreneur, keeps a running document on her computer called “Accomplishments.” It’s not her official resume. It’s a list of tough projects she’s completed, difficult clients she’s won over, and problems she’s solved. It includes specific, concrete examples of her competence. She told me that when she’s having a bad day and feels like a complete fraud, she reads that list. It’s her personal, evidence-based argument against the irrational feelings of her imposter syndrome. The data helps her fight the drama.
The Surprising Link Between My Imposter Syndrome and My Childhood.
I Was Conditioned to Believe My Success Was Not My Own
In therapy, I realized my imposter syndrome wasn’t a professional problem; it was a childhood wound. I grew up with a parent who would always minimize my achievements. If I got an A, they’d say the test must have been easy. If I won a game, they’d say the other team was weak. I was conditioned to believe that my success was never truly my own. I carried that voice into my adult life. Recognizing the origin of the “imposter” feeling was the first step in learning to separate my own voice from the critical voice of my past.
How Mentoring a Younger Colleague Cured My Imposter Syndrome.
Teaching My Skills Proved That I Actually Had Them
I was feeling like a fraud in my mid-forties, convinced that I had just been faking it for years. Then, I was asked to mentor a new hire in her twenties. The process of explaining my thought process, of teaching her the skills I had accumulated, and of answering her questions was a revelation. I had to articulate the knowledge I had taken for granted. In the act of teaching her, I proved to myself that I actually did know what I was doing. My “imposter” feelings couldn’t survive in the face of my own demonstrated competence.
I Thought I Was the Only One. Then I Talked to My Fellow 50-Year-Olds.
The Secret Epidemic Among the Successful
At a conference, I was having a drink with a group of other successful executives, all in our late forties and fifties. After a couple of drinks, I hesitantly confessed that I often felt like an imposter. I expected them to be shocked. Instead, every single person at the table nodded and said, “Me too.” It was a staggering moment. I realized that imposter syndrome isn’t a rare affliction; it’s a silent, secret epidemic among high-achievers. Knowing I wasn’t the only one was an incredible relief.
The Fear of Being Seen as “Outdated” or “Irrelevant.”
My Industry Is Changing So Fast, I Can’t Keep Up
My dad has been a graphic designer for 30 years. He’s brilliant at what he does. But he lives with a constant fear of being seen as “outdated.” New software, new trends, and new terminology seem to emerge every week. He sees the young designers in his office using tools he’s never heard of. This fear of becoming irrelevant is a major driver of his imposter syndrome. It makes him feel like he’s constantly on the verge of being exposed as an old dinosaur who doesn’t belong anymore.
The Speech I Gave That I Thought Was Terrible (Everyone Else Loved It).
My Inner Critic Is a Terrible Judge of Reality
I had to give a big presentation at a national conference. When I finished, I was convinced I had bombed. I obsessed over every tiny mistake, every stumbled word. I felt like a complete fraud. But then, people started coming up to me, telling me how inspiring and helpful my talk was. I received dozens of emails praising it. It was a jarring disconnect. It taught me that my inner critic has a completely distorted perception of reality. I have to learn to trust the external feedback more than my own internal, hyper-critical review.
How I Stopped Saying “I Was Just Lucky.”
I Started Saying “Thank You” Instead
I used to deflect every compliment. If someone praised a successful project, I’d say, “Oh, I just got lucky,” or “The team did all the work.” I was unable to just accept the praise. A coach gave me a simple but powerful challenge: for one month, I was only allowed to respond to a compliment with two words: “Thank you.” No deflecting, no minimizing. It was incredibly difficult at first, but it was a powerful practice that slowly rewired my brain to accept and internalize positive feedback.
The “Fake It ‘Til You Make It” Advice Is Terrible in Midlife. Here’s Why.
At 50, You Should Have Already Made It
The “fake it ’til you make it” mantra might work when you’re 22 and just starting out. But when you’re 50 and have decades of experience, “faking it” just reinforces the feeling that you’re an imposter. In midlife, the goal isn’t to fake it. It’s to own it. It’s to stand on your solid foundation of experience and knowledge and have the confidence to say, “I’ve earned my place here.” The strategy should be “reflect and project,” not “fake it ’til you make it.”
I Turned Down a Promotion Because I Thought I Wasn’t Ready. A Story of Regret.
My Imposter Syndrome Cost Me an Opportunity
Early in her career, a senior manager I know was offered a major promotion. She was terrified. She looked at the job description and focused on the 20% she didn’t know how to do, instead of the 80% she had mastered. She was convinced she would fail. So she turned it down. They gave the job to a male colleague who was less qualified but more confident. She said it was the single biggest regret of her career. Her imposter syndrome had directly cost her a huge opportunity for growth.
The “Inner Critic” That’s Louder at 50 Than It Was at 30.
The Stakes Are Higher, So the Voice Is Meaner
I was surprised to find that my inner critic, that nagging voice of self-doubt, is actually louder and meaner in my fifties than it was in my thirties. I think it’s because the stakes feel higher. In my thirties, a mistake felt like a learning experience. Now, a mistake feels like proof that I’m becoming obsolete. There’s less time to recover. That heightened sense of pressure gives my inner critic more ammunition, making the battle against self-doubt a daily, conscious effort.
How I Learned to Take a Compliment Without Deflecting.
My Default Response Was to Throw It Back
For years, whenever someone gave me a compliment, I would play a game of “hot potato” and immediately throw it back. “I love your presentation!” “Oh, thanks, but yours was so much better!” I was physically incapable of just absorbing a positive comment. My new practice is simple. When I get a compliment, I pause, I make eye contact, I take a breath, and I say a simple, sincere “thank you.” That’s it. It’s a small change in behavior that signals to my brain that I am worthy of the praise.
The “Body of Work” Review: A Practical Exercise to See Your Own Value.
I Became an Archeologist of My Own Career
My imposter syndrome was telling me I had accomplished nothing of value. My therapist had me do a “body of work” review. I had to go through my last 15 years of work and create a portfolio of my proudest achievements—the successful projects, the positive client feedback, the problems I had solved. It was like being an archeologist of my own career. When I saw it all collected in one place, the tangible evidence of my competence was undeniable. It was a powerful, data-driven argument against my feelings of being a fraud.
The High-Achiever’s Paradox: The More You Achieve, the More You Feel Like a Fraud.
Every Success Just Raises the Bar
I thought achieving more would cure my imposter syndrome. The opposite happened. Every time I reached a new level of success, it didn’t feel like a victory. It just felt like the bar had been raised, and the pressure to not screw up was even higher. I now had a reputation to live up to. This is the paradox for high-achievers: success doesn’t alleviate the feeling of being a fraud; it just amplifies the fear of being found out. It’s a treadmill of achievement that never leads to a feeling of security.
How I Differentiated Between “Healthy Humility” and “Destructive Self-Doubt.”
One Is About Learning, the Other Is About Loathing
I was confusing “humility” with “imposter syndrome.” My mentor helped me see the difference. He said, “Healthy humility is about recognizing that you don’t have all the answers and being open to learning. It’s constructive. Destructive self-doubt, or imposter syndrome, is the belief that you don’t deserve the answers you do have. It’s a form of self-loathing.” Humility says, “I can still grow.” Imposter syndrome says, “I am not good enough.” One is a growth mindset; the other is a fixed, negative self-perception.
The “What if They Realize I’m an Idiot?” Thought Loop.
My Most Common and Least Productive Mental Habit
This is the thought loop that plays in my head before any important meeting or presentation: “What if I say something stupid? What if they ask a question I can’t answer? What if they all realize I’m a complete idiot who has no idea what he’s doing?” It’s a classic cognitive distortion called “catastrophizing.” The only way I’ve found to break the loop is to challenge it with logic. I ask myself, “What is the actual, evidence-based probability of that happening?” It helps me separate my irrational fear from the much more boring reality.
I Asked for Feedback From Trusted Peers. Their Answers Shocked Me.
I Was Seeing a Funhouse Mirror Version of Myself
Feeling like a complete fraud, I took a scary step. I sent an email to five trusted colleagues and asked for their honest feedback on my strengths. I was braced for criticism. Their answers shocked me. They used words like “strategic,” “calm under pressure,” and “incredibly insightful”—words I would never in a million years use to describe myself. I realized I was seeing myself through a distorted, funhouse mirror. Their collective, external perspective was a powerful antidote to my own flawed self-perception.
The Surprising Way Public Speaking Helped Me Own My Expertise.
I Had to Act Like an Expert, So I Became One
I am terrified of public speaking. But I forced myself to start saying “yes” to opportunities to speak at industry events. The process of preparing a presentation—of organizing my thoughts, of structuring my arguments, of creating compelling slides—forced me to codify my own expertise. I couldn’t just “wing it.” I had to act like an expert. The strange thing is, after I had “acted” like an expert on stage a few times, I started to actually feel like one. The performance became the reality.
How I’m Modeling Confidence for My Kids by Fighting My Own Imposter Syndrome.
I Don’t Want Them to Inherit My Self-Doubt
I overheard my daughter say, “I’m probably going to fail this test.” It was a classic imposter syndrome thought, and it sounded exactly like me. I realized I was modeling self-doubt for my kids. Now, I’m trying to be more conscious of how I talk about myself in front of them. When I complete a difficult project, I’ll say, “I worked really hard on that, and I’m proud of how it turned out.” I want them to see me owning my accomplishments, so they learn to own theirs.
The “Intellectual” Imposter vs. The “Social” Imposter in Midlife.
Two Flavors of the Same Fear
I’ve noticed two types of imposter syndrome in my midlife peers. There’s the “intellectual” imposter, who is an expert in their field but is terrified they are not smart enough and will be exposed as a fraud. Then there’s the “social” imposter, who feels like they don’t belong in their own successful life. They feel like a middle-class kid who has snuck into a fancy country club and is waiting to be thrown out. Both are rooted in the same core fear: “I am not one of them, and I don’t belong here.”
The Day I Made a Huge Mistake at Work and Didn’t Get Fired.
The Catastrophe I Predicted Never Happened
I made a major mistake on a project that cost my company a significant amount of money. I was sure I was going to be fired. I was ready to pack up my desk. I went into my boss’s office and confessed. He listened, and then he said, “Okay, that’s a problem. Let’s figure out how we can fix it together.” That was it. No yelling, no firing. The catastrophe I had predicted in my head never materialized. This experience was a powerful lesson that the consequences I imagine are almost always worse than the reality.
How I Learned to Say “I Don’t Know, But I’ll Find Out.”
The Three Most Powerful Words an Expert Can Say
I used to think that to be seen as an expert, I had to have all the answers. I would bluff my way through questions I didn’t understand, which just fueled my imposter syndrome. A mentor gave me the three most powerful words in any expert’s vocabulary: “I don’t know.” Now, if I don’t know the answer, I say, “I don’t know, but that’s a great question, and I’ll find out for you.” It projects confidence, not ignorance. It shows that you are secure enough in your expertise to admit its limits.
The “Perfectionism” That Fuels the Feeling of Being a Fraud.
If the Bar Is Perfection, You Will Always Be a Failure
My imposter syndrome is fueled by my perfectionism. The bar I set for myself is “flawless execution.” Since that is an impossible standard, I am in a constant state of feeling like I’ve failed. I am always falling short of my own ridiculous expectations. The only way to combat the imposter feeling is to attack the perfectionism at its root. I have to learn to aim for “excellence” instead of “perfection.” Excellence is achievable and allows for humanity; perfection is a prison.
The Unspoken Imposter Syndrome Among “Stay-at-Home” Parents Re-entering the Workforce.
My 15 Years of Experience Felt Like a 15-Year Gap
My wife took 15 years off from her career to raise our children. When she decided to re-enter the workforce, her imposter syndrome was crippling. She felt like her skills were outdated and that her years as a stay-at-home mom counted for nothing. She had to completely reframe her experience. She wasn’t “unemployed”; she was the CEO of a complex domestic enterprise, honing skills in project management, budgeting, and negotiation. But the feeling that she was a fraud among “real” professionals was a huge hurdle to overcome.
My “Brag File”: A Collection of Emails and Notes That Prove My Worth.
My Personal Evidence Locker Against My Inner Critic
I have a folder in my email inbox called the “Brag File.” Anytime I get an email from a client praising my work, a note from my boss thanking me, or positive feedback from a colleague, I move it into that folder. It’s my personal evidence locker. When my imposter syndrome is screaming that I’m a failure, I open the folder and read through the evidence. It’s a collection of concrete, data-driven proof that my inner critic is a liar.
The Role of Gender in Midlife Imposter Syndrome.
“Am I Under-qualified, or Am I Just a Woman?”
I was talking to a group of female colleagues, all in senior positions. We all admitted to feeling like imposters. One of them asked a powerful question: “How much of this is our own insecurity, and how much of it is a rational response to working in a system that constantly underestimates us?” It was a lightbulb moment. For many women, imposter syndrome is compounded by a lifetime of being second-guessed, interrupted, and undervalued. It’s not just in our heads; it’s in the air we breathe.
The Freedom of Admitting You Don’t Have All the Answers.
I Traded My “Expert” Armor for Authentic Connection
I used to walk into every meeting wearing a heavy suit of “expert” armor. I felt like I had to project an aura of complete, unshakeable knowledge. It was exhausting. In my fifties, I’ve taken the armor off. I’m more willing to be vulnerable, to admit when I’m unsure, and to ask for help. The surprising result? My team trusts me more. My connections with my colleagues are more authentic. The freedom that comes from no longer having to pretend to be omniscient is incredible.
How I Use “Power Poses” and Mantras Before a Big Meeting (Without Feeling Silly).
A Two-Minute Ritual That Changes My Brain Chemistry
Before I walk into a high-stakes meeting where I know my imposter syndrome will flare up, I go into a bathroom stall and do a two-minute “power pose” ritual. I stand like Superman, with my chest out and my hands on my hips. It feels ridiculous. While I’m doing it, I repeat a simple mantra to myself: “I belong here.” It’s a quick, private ritual based on science that shows that changing your body language can actually change your brain chemistry, making you feel more confident and less stressed.
The Book That Changed My Entire Perspective on Imposter Syndrome.
“The Imposter Cure” by Dr. Jessamy Hibberd
I was struggling with feeling like a fraud, and a friend recommended the book “The Imposter Cure.” It was a game-changer. It wasn’t just about feeling better; it gave me practical, evidence-based tools to actually change my thinking. It helped me identify my specific “imposter” triggers, challenge my negative thought loops, and reframe my relationship with success and failure. It gave me the language and the framework I needed to understand what was happening in my own head and how to start fighting back.
The “Expert” Trap: The Pressure to Know Everything.
The More I Knew, the More I Realized I Didn’t Know
Early in my career, I thought becoming an “expert” would feel amazing. But the opposite happened. The more expertise I gained in my field, the more I became acutely aware of the vastness of what I didn’t know. This is the “expert” trap. Every piece of knowledge just reveals ten more things you need to learn. This can be a huge driver of imposter syndrome. The only solution is to embrace lifelong learning and accept that true expertise is not about knowing everything; it’s about being deeply skilled in one area while remaining a curious beginner in others.
How I Stopped Comparing My “Behind the Scenes” to Everyone Else’s “Highlight Reel.”
LinkedIn Is Not Real Life
I used to scroll through LinkedIn and feel terrible about myself. I was comparing my messy, complicated reality—my struggles, my doubts, my frustrations—with everyone else’s perfectly polished and curated professional highlight reels. I had to develop a new mental habit. Now, when I see someone’s post about their amazing promotion, I consciously remind myself: “This is their highlight reel. I am not seeing the arguments with their spouse, their own self-doubt, or the project that failed last year.” This simple reminder helps me keep things in perspective.
The “Yes, And…” Technique I Learned From Improv That Boosts My Confidence.
A Simple Tool to Build on Ideas, Not Shut Them Down
I took an improv comedy class to help with my presentation skills. The fundamental rule of improv is “Yes, and…” It means you accept what your partner has said (“yes”) and you build on it (“and…”). I started using this in meetings. Instead of finding flaws in a junior colleague’s idea, I’ll say, “Yes, that’s a great starting point, and what if we added this component?” It’s a subtle shift that has made me a more collaborative and confident leader. It’s about building, not blocking.
I Realized My “Imposter Syndrome” Was Actually a Symptom of Burnout.
My Brain Was Too Tired to Feel Confident
I was feeling like a complete fraud at work, second-guessing every decision. I thought my imposter syndrome was out of control. But then I took a two-week vacation where I completely unplugged. When I came back, the imposter feeling was gone. I felt clear-headed and confident. I realized the imposter syndrome wasn’t the disease; it was a symptom of extreme burnout. My brain was just too tired and depleted to access its own database of competence. Sometimes the cure for imposter syndrome isn’t a mindset shift; it’s a long nap.
The Conversation With My Therapist That Reframed Everything.
“What If Your Imposter Syndrome Is Just a Sign That You’re Pushing Yourself?”
I was complaining to my therapist about my persistent imposter syndrome. I saw it as a huge weakness. He reframed it for me. He said, “What if that feeling is actually a sign of your ambition and your desire to grow? It only shows up when you are pushing yourself to the edge of your comfort zone. Maybe it’s not a sign that you’re a fraud, but a sign that you are being brave.” This completely changed my relationship with the feeling. It wasn’t a sign of failure; it was a byproduct of my courage.
How I Learned to “Trust My Gut” After Decades of Second-Guessing.
My Intuition Is Just Data Processed at High Speed
I used to dismiss my “gut feelings” as irrational. But a mentor told me that intuition is not magic; it’s your brain processing thousands of data points from your past experience at a subconscious level. It’s a high-speed risk assessment. When I get a bad “gut feeling” about a business deal now, I don’t ignore it. I treat it as a valid piece of data. I ask myself, “What is my experience trying to tell me right now?” Trusting my gut is just another way of trusting my own 25 years of experience.
The “Authority Gap” and How I’m Closing It.
Even as the Boss, I Was Waiting for Permission
I read a book about the “authority gap”—the phenomenon where women’s expertise is more likely to be questioned than men’s. It was a lightbulb moment. I realized I was contributing to my own authority gap. I would use “softening” language in emails (“Just a thought, but…”). I would wait for others to validate my ideas in meetings. I’ve started to be more direct. I state my opinion without apology. I’m consciously working to close the gap not just in how others see me, but in how I present myself.
I Made a List of My Skills, Not Just My Job Titles.
I Was More Than Just My Resume
Feeling like a fraud, I sat down and made a list of my actual, tangible skills, divorced from my job titles. Not just “marketing manager,” but “proficient in advanced data analysis,” “skilled public speaker,” and “expert in crisis communication.” This exercise shifted my focus from my “role” to my “abilities.” It created a portfolio of my competence that was independent of any specific job. It was a powerful reminder that my value is in what I can do, not just the title on my business card.
The Day I Called Myself an “Expert” Out Loud.
It Felt Like a Lie, Then It Felt Like the Truth
I was being interviewed for an industry podcast, and the host introduced me as an “expert.” I physically cringed. Later in the interview, I had to describe my own background. I took a deep breath and said, “I’m an expert in this field with over 20 years of experience.” It felt like a lie was coming out of my mouth. But I said it. And the more I started to use that language to describe myself, the more I started to believe it. Sometimes, you have to audibly claim your own expertise before you can emotionally own it.
How I Handle Condescending Younger Colleagues.
My Secret Weapon Is Calm, Unshakeable Experience
I’ve had younger colleagues who have tried to “mansplain” my own area of expertise to me. It’s infuriating. My old reaction was to get defensive. My new reaction is a calm, slightly amused curiosity. I’ll listen patiently, and then I’ll say something like, “That’s an interesting perspective. In my experience from the ’98 project, we found that approach had some unforeseen consequences. Let me walk you through it.” I don’t get angry. I just calmly assert my deeper experience. It’s a quiet power move that works every time.
The “Dunning-Kruger” Effect in Reverse: Why Competent People Doubt Themselves.
The More You Know, the More You Know You Don’t Know
The Dunning-Kruger effect is when incompetent people are too ignorant to know they’re ignorant. I realized I had the opposite problem. The more expertise I gained, the more I became aware of the vast complexity of my field. This is the curse of the competent. The beginner only sees the simplicity; the expert sees the nuance and the potential for error. My self-doubt isn’t a sign of my incompetence; it’s a sign of my expertise. It’s proof that I know enough to know how much I don’t know.
I Tracked My “Wins” for a Month. The Data Was Undeniable.
My Feelings Weren’t Facts
I felt like I was constantly failing at work. My therapist suggested I keep a “win” journal for one month. Every day, I had to write down at least one thing I did well—a productive meeting, a happy client, a problem I solved. At the end of the month, I had a list of over 30 concrete successes. My feeling of “failure” was completely contradicted by the data. It was a powerful lesson that my feelings are not always facts. My imposter syndrome was a story I was telling myself, not the reality of my performance.
The Surprising Confidence I Gained From a “Failed” Project.
I Survived the “Worst-Case Scenario”
I led a major project at work that, despite my best efforts, completely failed. It was a public and humbling experience. I thought it would shatter my confidence forever. But a strange thing happened. I had faced my “worst-case scenario,” and I had survived. I didn’t get fired. The world didn’t end. Having lived through a failure, I was no longer so terrified of it. The experience, paradoxically, made me a bolder and more resilient leader.
I Stopped Apologizing for Taking Up Space in a Meeting.
My Voice Deserves to Be Heard
I used to preface all my comments in meetings with apologies. “Sorry, just a quick question…” or “Sorry to interrupt, but…” I was apologizing for having a voice. A female mentor pointed it out to me. She challenged me to go one week without apologizing for speaking. It was incredibly hard, but it was a game-changer. I realized I had been subconsciously signaling that my contribution was less important. I have a seat at the table, and I have stopped apologizing for using it.
How I’m Embracing the Role of the “Wise Elder” at Work.
My Value Has Shifted From Execution to Guidance
I can’t compete with the 25-year-olds on pure energy or speed. And I don’t have to. My value proposition at work has shifted. I am no longer just a “doer”; I am the “wise elder.” My value is in my perspective, my institutional knowledge, and my ability to see the long-term patterns that younger colleagues miss. Embracing this role has been incredibly freeing. I’m not trying to be the fastest horse in the race anymore. I’m the one who knows the shortcuts.
The “Mental Rehearsal” Technique That Quiets My Inner Critic.
I Practice Confidence in My Mind First
Before a big presentation, my inner critic starts its negative chatter. I combat this with “mental rehearsal.” I close my eyes and visualize the entire presentation going perfectly. I see myself standing confidently, speaking clearly, and nailing the Q&A. I visualize the audience nodding and smiling. This isn’t just wishful thinking; it’s a technique used by athletes. By rehearsing the success in my mind, I create a positive mental blueprint that helps to quiet the negative voice of my inner critic.
The Day I Realized “Competence” Isn’t the Same as “Perfection.”
I Was Holding Myself to an Impossible Standard
My imposter syndrome stemmed from a fundamental misunderstanding. I believed that to be “competent,” I had to be “perfect.” I had to know everything and never make a mistake. That is an impossible, inhuman standard. I had to redefine competence. Competence isn’t about knowing everything. It’s about having a solid base of knowledge, knowing how to find the answers you don’t have, and having the resilience to learn from the mistakes you will inevitably make.
I’m 52, I’m a Fraud, and I’m a Damn Good One. A New Manifesto.
Embracing the Imposter as a Superpower
I’ve decided to stop fighting my imposter syndrome and start embracing it. What if the feeling of being a “fraud” is actually a sign that I’m adaptable, that I can learn new things quickly, and that I can fit into new roles? Maybe being a “damn good fraud” is my superpower. It keeps me humble, it keeps me learning, and it keeps me on my toes. So yes, I’m 52 years old. And after three decades of faking it successfully, I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be pretty damn good at it.