This past week has been full of firsts.
I just got back from my first SXSW, which, along with being the first career-related conference I’ve ever been to, was my first time traveling alone. It was also the first time I fully realized that, like so many of my good friends and peers, I’m plagued by the Impostor Syndrome.
The Impostor Syndrome was first identified in the research of psychotherapists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes in 1978. Their work showed that “many women with notable achievements also had high levels of self-doubt. This deep lack of confidence – which couldn’t be equated with anxiety or other disorders – appeared to involve a deep sense of inauthenticity…these individuals often believe they are ‘fooling’ other people, ‘faking it’ or getting by because they have the right contacts or are just plain lucky.”
One of my dearest friends was just offered a great position with Amazon.com. When she told me she was going to be interviewing out in Seattle, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she’d blow them away. She launched her career by taking an opportunity at a fashion startup and making herself indispensible – she taught herself to code on the job and forged her own niche in the company. In spite of her tremendous success, she felt undeserving of the position.
I never understood how such a beautiful and accomplished woman could be so hesitant to embrace and espouse her own talents – to own up to her successes and not minimize her accomplishments – until I realized I was doing the same thing.
According to public speaker and consultant Valerie Young, Impostor Syndrome can prevent sufferers “from fully enjoying their success and seizing opportunities, and can cause them to overwork to compensate for supposed deficiencies…Internalizing these beliefs, rather than discussing them can lead to other emotional issues, including depression and low self-esteem. Over time, harbored Impostor Syndrome can make it difficult to accept praise for any level of accomplishment.”
Young identifies three elements at the heart of Impostor Syndrome:
- A complex view of success
- A warped definition of competence
- The way we respond to failure
At SXSW, it’s easy to feel unsuccessful when it seems as though everyone around you is working for an up-and-coming start-up or an agency that wields tremendous clout, and within a few hours of my arrival, the Impostor Syndrome had reared its ugly head. I began feeling like I had no right to be there, and that I had tricked myself into thinking I would “fit in” in the company of so many intelligent, motivated, and creative people.
After awhile, I realized that the vast majority of the attendees weren’t in their early 20s, and were there on behalf of their employer. I was the exception to both of the rules, but in no way did that speak less of me. It was easy for me to talk about nearly anything with them – and after successfully holding down my end of a conversation with Dan Ariely, I focused less on titles and agencies and more on the people themselves.
I also felt out of the loop (and thus inadequate) when my peers were name-dropping and discussing the merits of one tech blogger compared to another…which made it easy for me to fall into the second trap of the impostor syndrome: evaluating my competence and skills based something completely off-base; in this case, my name-dropping skills. Paris Hilton can probably list off who’s who in the film industry, but that doesn’t mean she’s really an actress. I reminded myself that competence isn’t contingent on one’s ability to keep up with casual industry banter, but rather, on successfully employing the skills and tools that drive the industry.
I went to SXSW because I’m passionate about what it is that I do; I wanted to seize the opportunity to learn from thought-leaders and connect with peers who have a similar inclination to be successful and stay on the cutting edge of an ever-evolving field.
Anyone who allows themselves to feel like an impostor in that situation is simply committing self-sabotage.
So, instead of damning myself to continue to feel discouraged, incompetent, or like a fraud, I readily admitted to not knowing Mark Cuban from Clay Shirky. I owned the feeling that I was a bit overwhelmed, ridiculously excited, and completely out of my comfort zone. And once I did so, I came into my own and had one of the best trips of my life.
Failing to acknowledge our own humanity — our insecurities as well as our talents and abilities — is the ultimate impostor act.
