Columnist Note: You can ignore this guidebook, but I assure you that its merits stem from painful discovery.
As a former Army Officer now grinding my way through graduate-level analytics and as the father of three children, this means that someone in our house is always crying (and that person is usually me). And let’s be honest, for most people reading this, you’re likely stuck in this proverbial pattern that transcends many of our lives. Mainly, the material accomplishment you so long sought for didn’t bring the nourishment you thought it would; instead, it intensified the hunger to accomplish something truly great. As such, you find yourself back at this crossroads, again with a similar decision as when you first started. And just when you thought this existential carousel was yours alone, AI went ahead and bought everyone a ticket.
Reader beware: You may leave with more questions than answers.
Imposter Phenomenon Guidebook
Salutations, weary traveler! Welcome to the Imposter Phenomenon Guidebook! You’ve left behind the uniform, the rank, or the comfortable office, and you now find yourself in a classroom surrounded by students who casually discuss logistic regression, SQL joins, and p-values like they’re ordering coffee. You nod, scribble notes, and subliminally wonder if admissions accidentally swapped your file with someone else’s.
As the author of this guidebook, I promise that this manual will either persuade you of your merit or dissuade you so profoundly that you no longer recognize the person who opened up this post.
Lesson 1: Lower the Drawbridge
Stop me if you have heard one of these before:
- “I am not good enough.”
- “I just traded a hard job for one that I’m not sure I’m prepared for.”
- “One of these days, the wheels will come off.”
- “Other people seem so put-together – how can I keep up?
If these words seem familiar, you probably heard them from none other than the inner voice of your narrator. And that inner narrator always has a way of chiming in at the worst moments and with the nastiest thoughts. It’s often rude, condescending, erudite, and highly insecure, frequently showing up during essential presentations, sporting events, and first dates. However, here’s the good news: this inner narrator isn’t you, but merely a voice within your deep brain parts that badgers you at inopportune times. And while our inner narrators are not always nasty (the one here at the Imposter Phenomenon Guidebook has been increasingly pleasant the last few years), they always possess the ability to surface at any moment’s notice.
To kick things off, the author of this guidebook actually got in touch with the infamous “Inner Narrator” that belongs to many of us to get some of their thoughts. For maximum drama, we scheduled the interview early in the morning – before coffee.
Interviewer: “You’re not good enough.”
The Inner Narrator: “Absolutely correct. My coding skills could never keep up with those that have been doing it before they could speak, so there’s no point in trying.”
Interviewer: “Everyone appears to have it together and is smarter than you.”
The Inner Narrator: “You bet your last dollar. I’m floundering through chaos, but everyone else? Perfect. No need to interrogate that claim.”
Interviewer: “Anything good you have done was just dumb luck.”
The Inner Narrator: “Couldn’t have said it better myself. That job? They just needed a warm body. That grade? The instructor just liked me – all flukes.
Only a couple of minutes into the interview, our interviewer reported being “extremely bummed out by this guy” and terminated the interview after a few more questions of a similar nature (none of which merited printing).
We hope by this point, you are beginning to see the inherently ludicrous nature of much of the inner narrator’s logic. However, to conclude lesson 1, we ask that you do something counterintuitive. Assume the inner narrator is right. Lower your drawbridge and castle defenses. Pull the alligators out of the moat. Abandon all hope of redemption and internalize that your inner narrator is right: you aren’t good enough. Feel what this is like and hold onto this as you begin lesson 2.
Lesson 2 – Become Someone Else
Now that you’ve internalized your assumed fundamental inadequacy, it’s time to become someone else. Pronto. If you’re going to convince the world you’re different, you have to really sell it.
Showboat. Commit to the bit. Flamboyance and flair. Over-the-top dedication to the role.
Take a page from the method acting playbook: immerse yourself fully in the role, mindset, and posture of who you want to be.
- You want to be a data scientist, but don’t think you’re smart enough? Drop terms like “multicollinearity” into casual conversation. Act like you completely know what you’re doing, even if your charts look like a Jackson Pollock painting.
- You want to be a writer, but think of yourself as ineloquent? Start writing! And loudly announce your latest short story at your nearest Panera Bread.
- You want to be a great teammate? Take ownership of group projects like you once took ownership of missions. Your peers will notice that this guy takes “Mission First” to a whole new level.
The rule is simple: emulate the symbol to become the symbol – speech, dress, mannerisms, behavior, and pattern. Osmotically, from the outside in, you’ll begin to transform.
The catch? Even if you succeed, you’ll be right back at that crossroads where you started.
Lesson 3 – An Old Friend
Congratulations! You’ve become the data scientist, author, teammate, or person you didn’t think you could be. It started as a ridiculous farce where you merely cosplayed as that type of person, but through enough hard work and discipline, you actually did it!
And then, in the quiet fog of morning, you receive a call.
“Hello,” says your inner narrator. “It’s me again. Just calling to say – you’re still a fraud.”
As the author of the Imposter Phenomenon Guidebook, I have the authority and absolute delight to tell you that Imposter Phenomenon Part II: The Return is guaranteed.
The job title, the degree, the blue check, the corner office, the 3 million followers, the TED talk, the gold medal, the lead role in the play, the leadership position, the job that you thought would bring meaning and purpose and challenge into the life that you felt was stagnant, the mountain you climbed, or the race you won…..none of it, once you get it, is going to silence the inner narrator. The thing is, he doesn’t actually value money or status, but rather lies to you that he does. The day you evict him is the day you open up the space for someone else to move in.
Lesson 4 – The Final Reframing
You now find yourself back at square one. After scratching and clawing to emulate what you thought you wanted, you find yourself lacking proper nourishment, and that hunger from before has only grown stronger.
The solution? Find love and acceptance for who you are in the present – not merely despite your flaws, but recognizing that your work isn’t diminished by your struggles and there’s purpose woven through them. Strive not to impress the world but to walk faithfully in your calling, embracing the person you are today AND the person you’re becoming.
The beautiful truth is that when you ground yourself in love that transcends performance, you have the freedom to explore different paths throughout your life while remaining anchored in your deeper identity. Rather than asking yourself, “Should I be a data professional?” you can ask yourself, “What kind of data professional would I be, and what does faithful work look like in this role?” Who, not what. Over the years, we have found that if you are overly obsessed with the path, that is typically an indication that your ultimate treasure is misplaced.
You are loved now, AND you have much room for growth. “And” not “but.” These ostensibly operate on two separate timelines and rule books for assessing your life, but actually, the art is learning to hold who you are in the present (acceptance) and who you strive to be in the future (ambition) in superposition.
That story is one that we here at the Imposter Phenomenon Guidebook are still learning to write. So stay tuned.
Columnist: Chase Moseley