Jelena Kecmanovic is a psychologist, writer, and a member of Author Club, where the challenge of Imposter Syndrome came up recently. As we talked through the issues, it became clear that Jelena had experience helping people with the exact problem that many academic or nonfiction authors struggle to manage. I asked if she was interested in writing a guest post to share some of her useful insight more broadly, and I’m thrilled to share her expertise with you today. I learned a lot from reading this, including a new way of approaching the tricky faux logic that accompanies self-doubt, and the fact that Imposter Syndrome is a catchy, but incorrect term.
When Jane came to consult with me in my psychology practice, she struck me as meticulously well put-together. (Identifying details of her story have been altered to preserve anonymity). Her pleasing clothes, shoes, jewelry, and makeup appeared carefully coordinated without looking too corporate or fussy. She was a 55-year-old literature professor and author turned university administrator with a remarkable record of scholarship, novels, and awards to her name.
“I was tapped by the president to apply for a dean position,” she blurted, without smiling. “But I’m paralyzed by the fear that finally I’ll be found out.”
“Found out?” I asked.
“Yes, all these years, I’ve worked so hard to make sure that…I control the narrative, I guess. I’ve run myself ragged working extremely long hours, overpreparing for everything, learning my talks by heart. And now – whether I decline or go through the grueling interview process - they’ll figure out that I am a fraud underneath. That I’m actually not as capable as they think.”
“I hear anger in your voice.”
“Yes, I’m mad that I still have to deal with this, at this point in my life!”
“I’m imagining how hard it must be to wear a mask all the time…and I’m wondering how does it feel to take it off here, with me?”
Jane’s composure softened as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. She uncrossed her arms and reached for a tissue. “It’s a huge burden to carry,” she whispered. “I’m a bit relieved to let someone in on my secret – that I feel like the world’s biggest imposter.”
It was another academic, Pauline Clance, who first coined the term “imposter phenomenon” in a paper she published 1978 with her colleague, Suzanne Imes. They never called it by its current popular name, “imposter syndrome,” and are reportedly dismayed at the rebranding because it pathologizes the common thoughts and feelings of inadequacy. Clance and Imes noticed that many successful women felt like they lacked talent and intelligence, compared to their peers. They also downplayed the role of their abilities in their achievement, attributing it instead to luck, timing, help, or extra hard work.
Although Clance published “The Impostor Phenomenon” book in 1985, mostly based on extensive interviews with professional women, the concept had not been widely popularized until the advent of the internet and social media. Research during the last two decades has found that significant imposter thoughts and feelings are experienced by at least two-thirds of people, of all genders, at some point in their lives. That said, women and people of color are more likely to feel like imposters, especially if they work in fields where they are minorities.
Experiencing the imposter phenomenon clearly feels bad, but what matters even more is how it affects our quality of life. On the plus side, feeling like an imposter can lead us to focus on others and become more effective at work because of that investment in interpersonal dynamics. It can also engender what philosophers call “twisted self-deception,” fooling us into thinking that we are never good enough, thus propelling hard work – which works in our favor in some circumstances.
But the imposter phenomenon becomes a problem when it influences our behavior in one of two unhelpful ways:
When we repetitively engage in perfectionistic striving and workaholism, leading to burnout, or
When we procrastinate and avoid challenges for fear of failure.
Unfortunately, both overachievement and underachievement reinforce imposter feelings, creating a vicious cycle.
Creative work and imposterism
As a psychologist and a writer, I have observed that individuals in creative and artistic professions are particularly vulnerable to imposter phenomenon. In the absence of “objective” standards for excellence, delayed and often contradictory feedback, and the preponderance of rejection coupled with an extremely low chance of resounding success, it is hard for writers, for example, to escape feeling like an imposter. In a recent New York Times opinion piece, I read that even one of my favorite authors, the late neurologist Oliver Sacks, once thought of himself as a failure. “I have always felt transparent, without substance, a ghost, a transient, homeless, or outcast,” he wrote to his aunt.
There are countless other examples of accomplished writers struggling with self-doubt. In his journals, John Steinbeck often expressed feelings of inadequacy, wondering whether people would see him as a fraud. At a gathering of renowned scientists, artists, and writers, Agatha Christie thought that “at any moment they would realize that I didn’t qualify to be there, among these people who had really done things.” And Toni Morrison frequently felt unworthy of her achievements and feared that others would eventually figure out she wasn’t as talented as they thought. The list goes on and on.
As I worked with Jane, our frank discussion of her inner experience allowed us to peel back layers of shame accumulated over time. We then looked into the origins of her imposter thoughts and feelings – both personal and universal – before examining how they have affected her life. Experimenting with alternative ways of being within a context of healing therapeutic relationships, Jane was able to change her relationship with self and others. What follows is a brief consideration of the strategies I use with clients who are dealing with the imposter phenomenon that could help you tackle your own self-defeating doubt and lack of confidence.
We are all imposters
The universality of imposter phenomenon partly stems from so-called negativity bias and fear of being excluded from the tribe. Evolutionarily, the human tendency to notice, remember, and recall negative information much more than positive has helped us survive through the millennia, as did the tendency to make sure we are accepted by our group. So we end up with an internal tally of all our real and perceived failures, while watching others boast about their successes on social media and their resumes, at conferences and in interviews.
There are ways to counter this tendency. Keeping track of your successes, however small, and celebrating victories, even if you don’t feel like it, is a good start. Even more basic is creating your “done list” in addition to your “to-do list.” Teaching or mentoring others is another path toward recognizing your talents and what you have to offer.
On the flip side, neurobiologist Melanie Stefan published her “CV of failures” in the prestigious journal Nature in 2010, to model being open about one’s unpublished research, rejected grant applications, unsuccessful studies, or failed promotion attempts. A few years later, professor of psychology Johannes Haushofer’s failure resume went viral, receiving in his words “way more attention than my entire body of academic work.” These are poignant reminders that behind every public success lies a sea of false starts and failed attempts. If the “failure CV” catches on, maybe we would stop believing that everybody except us knows what they are doing, that they have it all figured out. Take it from a psychologist: None of us do.
If imposter thoughts and feelings spare no one, we could approach them as no more than what they are: annoying mind meanderings and unpleasant physical sensations. We can notice them as they freely come and pass, not fighting with them, but not buying into them either. Or we can give a name to our imposter voice, like artist and musician Amanda Palmer termed her “Fraud police,” and learn to accept that it will always be there but that we don’t have to listen to it.
Real and Idealized Self
Imposter phenomenon is related to the gap between the true self that we often keep hidden and the ideal or false self we present to the world. This chasm was discussed by many early psychiatrists and psychologists, starting in the early 1900s. One of them, German psychiatrist Karen Horney, distinguished between Real Self – the authentic version of oneself capable of growth - and the Idealized Self – a mask based on unrealistic standards and external expectations.
Horney defied her conservative father to enter medical school as one of the first female students at the time and later questioned Freudian orthodoxy even as she was developing her career as a psychoanalyst. After separating from her brutish husband, she immigrated to the U.S. in 1932 as a single mother with three daughters. She soon joined the ranks of influential “neo-Freudians” in New York City, publishing multiple seminal books and becoming a renowned therapist and teacher. In spite of this remarkable life, she continuously vacillated between self-assurance and self-doubt.
As Horney postulated, and later research confirmed, individuals who alienate themselves too much from their Real Self and become fused with their Idealized Self, often end up feeling depressed, anxious, and dissatisfied with their job and life. Growing up in a family where love was conditional, or being always seen as inferior to, for example, a sibling - or, alternatively, being treated as preternaturally gifted - all can make you more likely to bury your Real Self and thus struggle with intense imposter phenomenon. That said, there are actionable ways to narrow the gap between the selves.
Reclaiming your Real Self
Become aware of the “tyranny of shoulds.” Both Horney and, later, one of the founders of Cognitive Therapy, Albert Ellis, warned us against should-ing all over ourselves. Ask yourself where beliefs like, “I should always be perfect,” “I should never make mistakes,” “I should be liked by everyone,” I should know this by now,” or “I should never ask for an extension of my writing deadline” come from and whether they are serving you well today. If not, notice how easily your mind lapses into should-ing and then let the shoulds go, one by one.
Accept yourself as you are. Realize that perfection is an unhealthy, unachievable ideal and that to be human is to be imperfect. Instead of trying to live up to the Idealized Self, open up to all your weaknesses and strengths, shortcomings and victories, thoughts and feelings, bringing compassion to them. As Ann Patchett said, “I believe, more than anything, that this grief of constantly having to face down our own inadequacies is what keeps people from being writers. Forgiveness, therefore, is key. I can’t write the book I want to write, but I can and will write the book I am capable of writing. Again and again throughout the course of my life I will forgive myself.”
Some of my favorite approaches for engendering self-compassion include visualizing and channeling a wise, loving relative or mentor who accepted you unconditionally; imagining how you would treat a friend with imposter feelings and then do a U-turn to bring the same care to yourself; or just taking a moment to physically embrace yourself.
Reengage with what truly matters. Instead of adhering to the external expectations imposed by the Idealized Self, ask yourself these questions about your current behaviors: “If I didn’t feel like an imposter, what would I choose now?” “If no one knew what I was doing, would I still do it?” and, “Even if there’s a high chance that it will not succeed, is this the right action for me?”
The answers will help you elucidate your True Self. Another way to get at your deepest longings and values is to imagine your 80th birthday or your funeral and think about what you would like others to say about you.
Connect with kindred spirits. Reclaiming one’s True Self never happens in isolation. Finding supportive communities of like-minded individuals is crucial for any growth. For writers, joining a writing group, having an accountability partner, or working with an exceptional editor can make the difference between wallowing in self-reproach versus realistically assessing one’s progress and continually working and improving. After all, “The Great Gatsby” became an American classic only after legendary editor Maxwell Perkins helped crystallize F. Scott Fitzgerald’s ideas and transform his prose.
Author Club is a weekly hangout that I host with writers and authors, each of whom has their own expertise and perspective—I talk about writing and publishing, but it’s not at all rare when someone in the group has special insight into an issue that another member brings up, and we have the freedom to follow those threads. I encourage you to check it out if you think you’re interested.
After reading this piece, a lot of things come to mind—in particular, that a lot of authors (and especially aspiring authors) suffer from a disconnect between their ideal self (productive, eloquent, being recognized as a successful author), and their real self (writer’s block, worry that people will think they’re overstepping, procrastination…). This weekend I’m going to focus on one single action—one fact—than can help me deal with the imposter phenomenon that sometimes stands in my way: writers write. So whatever else is true, as long as I keep writing, I’m a writer.
PS—I’m getting ready right now to open sign-ups for my expert book planning workshop on December 8th. People on the waiting list will get a head start before I announce the workshop to others. I made a short video overview so you can decide if it will be helpful for you.
Great post. Thank you Jelena.