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Let's Talk About Imposter Syndrome.

Ian Hammonds

I’d like to begin this piece by saying that the irony of a gay therapist blogging about imposter syndrome was not lost on me. Anyone who is either queer or a therapist probably resonates very deeply with the widespread psychological phenomenon known as imposter syndrome, also referred to as "imposterism". I went on a caffeine-infused journey writing this blog, uncovering several realizations about myself as a mental health professional, a business owner, a writer, a creator, and a human. With your permission, I'll also get vulnerable and self-disclose some of my own experiences when I've felt like an imposter. To channel my inner researcher, I asked several people through an Instagram post if they could tell me anonymously about their experiences with imposter syndrome. I received several messages from some therapist friends of mine who struggled with their inner imposter showing up in romantic relationships, working with the parents of the kids they see, their outer appearance, and their friendships. I also met someone recently who writes music, and they told me about the inner voice they hear of “That’s not good enough” when composing songs. Thank you to those of you who helped me write this piece on a subject that is very important to me.


Understanding Imposter Syndrome

Before I begin to define imposter syndrome and the fancy research-based definitions of this human condition, I’d like to give some examples of what it sounds like in our minds. “You don’t belong here, why did you even come?” “You’re writing this, and everyone will hate it. It will never get published!” “The value of the work you do will never amount to anything.” “It’s only a matter of time before everyone realizes you are a fraud.” “You don’t impact anyone’s life as a professional. Why did you even choose to make this your career?” Even as I wrote these messages, a flashback of some shame-based memories came back of the times I actually had this internal dialogue in my head. In my counseling supervision, I remember processing several times the feeling of being a fraud, of not truly helping my clients, of not feeling like I was actually worth the money I charged people (which as an associate, or an intern when I was provisionally licensed, was really not that much). Langford and Clance (1993) define imposter syndrome as “a psychological occurrence in which an individual doubts their skills, talents, or accomplishments and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a fraud”. It is also estimated that nearly 75% of the entire world’s population struggle with imposter syndrome or some form of near-debilitating self-doubt. Imposter syndrome exists equally among genders, persons of color, and queer persons (this will be discussed more later). Some people I greatly admire have also talked about their experiences with imposter syndrome like Tom Hanks, Maya Angelou, and Michelle Obama. The amount of research done on imposter syndrome is relatively slim as it is not considered a formal diagnosis, and so there is not much resource out there supporting what I am about to say. But as a mental health professional, I firmly believe that there is a significant positive correlation between empathy levels and our likelihood to internalize feelings of imposterism. In other words, if we have high levels of empathy (an extreme ability to understand the feelings of those around us), we are at a high risk of feeling like an imposter. Those who are highly empathetic have a never-ending fear and anxiety of letting down the people around them. And if we are fearful of letting those down around us, we are very likely to feel like we are fraudulent. I’ll give an example in my own world: To become a therapist, it is almost a prerequisite to contain an inordinate amount of empathy. I have a great deal of empathy for the couples I see because I’m treating two people as well as their relationship. When I was single, I was constantly worried that the couples I was seeing would find out that I was a fraud. And that my work I was doing would be viewed as that of an imposter. Because I cared so deeply for my couples (i.e. ihigh empathy), I was deeply worried that they would view me as not belonging (i.e. high imposterism). Who does imposter syndrome affect? While imposter syndrome effects three quarters of the entire world’s population, it would be insensitive of me to go through this entire blog and not mention how imposter syndrome effects women, people of color, and queer people–three populations that have been demonized, marginalized, and made to feel like imposters simply for existing and being born. Before I begin this section, I recently read and saved a tweet from Terence Lester that deeply spoke to me. It said:

What’s more important? Trying exhaustively to act as though you do belong, or creating a space to make others feel that they belong? In a polarizing year like 2022, people are realizing that white cisgender male privilege is not only entirely real, but we are all collectively realizing that white privilege inherently tells people of color, women, and LGBTQ persons that they do not belong. And if you disagree or don’t believe white male privilege exists, this blog might not be the place for you. Imposter syndrome was initially coined when Clance and Imes (1978) studied a cluster of high achieving women in higher education and in male-dominated corporate environments. To say that women have been made to feel as though they are imposters is an understatement. As a proud feminist who devotes his work in therapy to combating against misogyny, I have seen firsthand from my female clients who have gone their whole lives feeling as if they were inferior. Women are born into a world that is not very nurturing of equal rights between men and women. Women are taught in different ways and through different systems that they have to be perfect, soft-spoken, gentle, and secondary to men. And I say this with the credentials next to my name: Fuck. That. Noise. Another population with a high susceptibility to imposterism are people of color. Just as male privilege increases the chances of women feeling like imposters in a man’s world, white privilege gives way for people of color to feel as though they do not belong in a world that favors white people. If you are not a BIPOC, imagine walking around at night and not being able to wear a hoodie. Imagine having to work twice as hard as a regular student at a university to achieve a high GPA, only to be told that you are an outlier of your race. Imagine being pulled over by a policeman even though you have broken no traffic laws. These make up the very tip of the iceberg that contributes to feelings of imposterism and a lack of belongingness for persons of color. And though I’m not a part of this population, I want to say that the white collective has an incredible amount of work to do to dismantle the problematic systems that contribute to imposter syndrome within people of color. For queer people, I’m comfortable explaining it from my own perspective as I am apart of this community. I’ve had feelings of imposter syndrome in situations like having to play sports in high school, being in a room of predominantly straight men, and overhearing conversations where gay pejorative slurs are used freely and unapologetically. Just as women and people of color have to struggle with this, I fully realize that there are people out there who view homosexuality as a choice or an abomination. And this reality of mine, along with any other non-heterosexual person’s, can contribute to the feeling of I don’t belong.


The power of naming it. Even though imposter syndrome is not an actual recognized emotion (happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise, and disgust are the six core emotions), it still is a very emotionally charged psychological state that’s embedded in fear, shame, and sadness. Because of this, I’m asking anyone reading this who struggles with imposter syndrome: Don’t fight against the feeling, but instead name the feeling. When we fight against our emotions, we are only making it harder for ourselves by repressing our body’s natural reaction to stimuli. When we sit with sadness or anger, we are allowing our brains to function in a healthy way. We nurse our bodies when we have grief and sadness, we find calm through music when we’re angry, and we might listen to podcast when we’re about to do something that scares us. These are all examples of not fighting against emotions, but instead sitting with them. With imposter syndrome, this should be looked at the same way. People I know personally have told me that they have fought against imposter syndrome by becoming a workaholic, spouting off fancy words or definitions when counseling clients, or appearing as cold and aloof while they are in the environment that gives them imposterism. This can only make the feeling of fraudulence worse. The other important piece of handling imposter syndrome is naming it. The power of putting words to an irrational fear or heavy emotion is so ridiculously underrated, and I’m waiting for the day for this to be a more widespread tool. When we name emotions that feel uncontrollable or overwhelmingly negative, we are taking the power away from them. And instead, we are giving the power to ourselves by putting them into words. Some ways to name imposter syndrome are below: 1) “I feel like a total fraud, and I just feel like I have to say it.” 2) “My imposter syndrome is kicking in right about now.” 3) “I feel like a fish out of water.” 4) “I know this probably isn’t in reality, but I feel like I’m being seen as fraudulent.” 5) “I feel like I don’t belong, and I might need help with this.”

Examine your community As humans, we are attachment beings. As I’ve mentioned so many times in previous blogs, we’re wired to connect and have a stable community around us full of warmth, empathy, and belongingness. And if we are lacking in this, our sense of self worth and feelings of imposterism are probably going to be compromised. How is your community around you? Are others showing up for you? Are there people who have been a recipient of your unreciprocated giving nature?

The messages that we get from others are extremely important. Are the people whom you rely on most for your community needs saying things to you that combat your inner imposter dialogue? Are they giving you messages of encouragement, warmth, empathy, and understanding (messages that you might not be giving yourself)? Are they reliable when you count on them for emotional support? These are extremely important questions on helping with feelings of imposter syndrome. The words our people use when talking to us should not sound like the words we use on ourselves when struggling with imposterism. Here’s another rather vulnerable example of re-evaluating my community: When I first began graduate school for counseling, I was struggling with some deep feelings of imposter syndrome. I was around so many motivated, brainy, and scholarly people who were counselors in training (like myself). I made a post on Facebook airing out my frustration on a completely random topic, and someone whom I considered one of my best friends messaged me privately regarding the post, saying “I think you should rethink becoming a counselor.” I realized at that moment that this person’s words toward me matched almost exactly what I felt erroneously about myself. Nine years later: I have a successful private practice in counseling, and this person and I have not spoken since that very day.

Examine your inner voice


Just as we should look at the external messages we are receiving from those around us, we should also look within and ask ourselves: What kind of voice do I normally use when talking to myself? My rule of thumb that I give my clients is that the tone of voice we use to talk to other people should be the same tone of voice we use to talk to ourselves. Unless of course, we’re naturally mean-spirited to everyone, but that’s for another blog!


When we talk to others, we normally talk with empathy, understanding, nurturance, and approachability. And these are all qualities in the tone of voice we ought to use when we tune into our own internal dialogue. How is your inner voice? Could it be tweaked to sound a bit kinder? Is there any opportunity to hang a sign with a kind message in a place where you pass by every day?


Another vulnerable example: Once upon a time, I was fired very unexpectedly and suddenly by a client. They left me an email firing me with feedback that was rather harsh, and it left an imprint on my feelings of being capable as a counselor (also known as “imposter syndrome”, you may have heard of it by now). The next time I went into my office to see clients after a weekend of feeling gross and inferior, I wrote myself a note on my dry erase board that said:



This was my own way of tweaking my inner dialogue by adding an overtly kind and compassionate message to myself during a time where imposterism was alive and well.



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