Am I an Impostor?

On whether she was ready to take on a trial court judgeship:

“The doubts that had crept up with surprising speed seemed to be grounded in perfectly valid concerns, such as the fact that my criminal law background was mostly at the appellate level, and that I hadn’t been engaged in trial work since serving as a law clerk with Judge Saris the year after I’d graduated from law school. Would my relative lack of trial court experience make my candidacy a nonstarter? And if it didn’t, did I know enough or could I catch on swiftly enough to become truly excellent at the job?”

[…]

Back in D.C. a week later, it was my father’s response that finally snapped me out of my indecision over whether I should choose the dream house over the dream job, the known over the unknown, the safe and predictable over the risky and challenging.

“Are you insane?” he asked, interrupting me as I was trying to explain why giving up our home might be a deal-breaker. His voice through the phone line was as emphatic as I’d ever heard it. “You can always get another house, Ketanji. But becoming a federal judge is something you’ve wanted for as long as I can remember, and it is not something you can plan for. This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

He was right, of course. That was the moment when I realized that what I had really been grappling with was an insidious fear of failure, and I had been using the house and my limited trial experience as excuses not to put myself out there and possibly fall short. 

Source: Ketanji Brown Jackson, Lovely One: A Memoir (New York: Random House, 2024), e-book, 316-8.

“When I went back to New York, Meryl [Streep] and I were to film in the Bronx, in a housing unit. Amy, Philip, and Meryl were one of the greatest casts I ever worked with because it was absolutely, completely void of ego. Everybody was trying to figure out the work. We had great discussions during rehearsal: what it’s like to be on top with the impostor syndrome constantly chasing you and making you feel ostracized because you were the chosen one. Meryl said something wonderful that helped me let go of the impostor feeling. ‘Yeah, Viola, we know the truth.’ What she was saying is we know the truth of what it means to be in this position. It doesn’t puff up your walk if you love what you do. It’s a great responsibility. That’s constantly overlooked and misunderstood. If there were a poster of actors who had the impostor syndrome, always working to do better, we had poster children in that room, constantly trying to figure out the characters we were to portray, not focusing on anything, anyone else.”

Source: Viola Davis, Finding Me: An Inspiring Memoir of Overcoming Adversity, Embracing Authenticity, and Celebrating Self-Love (New York: HarperCollins, 2022), e-book, 259-60.

On her big break:

“Each video I made got millions of views . . . then my life did start to change.

I started getting attention from all kinds of journalists and celebrities and people I’d always admired. Ben Stiller was commenting on my videos. Cher retweeted me. Halle Berry called me “iconic.” I went from 60,000 Twitter followers to two million. I was on Ellen. I had an interview with Lawrence O’Donnell. And Nicolle Wallace. Jimmy Fallon had me on The Tonight Show. Kamala Harris wanted to do an Instagram Live with me. 

Kamala Harris. My parents said we were probably related! 

And suddenly, very suddenly, like so fast it’ll make your head spin, and my head was spinning, I was pretty much handed the keys to Hollywood. 

I signed with WME and they quickly made so many dreams come true. I started auditioning for high-profile projects. I got offered a series regular role on a sitcom. One day I’m at the park with Stella and I get a text from Ricky Gervais. We sold a pilot for 100 Tricks to Appear Smart in Meetings to Netflix and I’d be working with Ricky Gervais. Ricky Gervais. We sold another pilot for How to Be Successful Without Hurting Men’s Feelings to CBS with Nina Tassler and Cindy Chupack. My manager texted me and said they want me to guest-host Kimmel. HOST. KIMMEL. I met with Natasha Lyonne and Maya Rudolph and they wanted to work with me on a Netflix comedy special. I was getting a Netflix comedy special. 

And then I was like, wow, I’m really glad I voted for him. Just to be clear, I did not vote for him. 

If this feels fast to you, it felt that way to me, too. I can’t describe the imposter syndrome that engulfed me as all this was happening. It engulfs me even now as I write this. I’m getting imposter syndrome writing my own memoir.”

Source: Foolish, pp. 221-2

On receiving the Media for Liberty Award:

I am excited about the day, but anxious/uneasy. I’m nervous that I’m flying too close to the sun. That, in sum:

I’m. A. Fraud.

Increased attention/ recognition puts a guy on my shoulder whispering in my ear, “Who are you kidding? You’re a fraud.” Whenever success came my way, it was because I was “fooling them.” I didn’t warrant recognition as an academic, nor rewards as an entrepreneur. I felt an anxiety, always, that I’d be found out for what I really am: the son of a secretary, who did poorly in school, did not invest in relationships, was selfish, and isn’t that gifted. Someone whose only real talent was self-promotion and taking credit for other people’s work. A fraud.

Source: Scott Galloway, The Algebra of Happiness: Notes on the Pursuit of Success, Love, and Meaning (New York: Portfolio / Penguin, 2019), e-book, 56-7.

“[Elaine Chao] was the country’s first Chinese-American cabinet secretary. For eight years, she served President George W. Bush as labor secretary, the only cabinet member to stay with the president through his entire administration. There wasn't much in her background to predict such lofty heights. Chao was born in Taiwan; she came to the United States on a freight ship at the age of eight, after her father finally managed to get together enough money to pay the fare. Her rise reads like a classic tale of hard work, risk, and ironclad confidence.

But when we asked Chao if she ever doubted her abilities during those years in office, she was wonderfully candid, and funny. ‘Constantly,’ she replied. ‘I'm Asian American, are you kidding? My fear was that the newspapers would have blaring headlines like: ‘Elaine Chao Failed, Disgraced Whole Family.’”

Source: Katty Kay and Claire Shipman, The Confidence Code: The Science and Art of Self-Assurance: What Women Should Know―Unlocking the Science of Self-Confidence (New York: HarperBusiness, 2014), e-book,  8-9.

“For years I really believed that it was all luck. Even as I write this I have to fight that urge. What I’ve realized only recently is that by refusing to take credit for what I had achieved, I wasn't nurturing the confidence I needed for my next career steps,” she admits. “I was literally quaking when it came time for me to go back to Washington and cover the White House. At the time, I thought to myself, I’ll never learn to report on politics. I don't know anything about it.' Preoccupied and insecure about whether she would measure up, she should have relied on what she had already achieved to give her a psychological boost.”

Source: Katty Kay and Claire Shipman, The Confidence Code: The Science and Art of Self-Assurance: What Women Should Know―Unlocking the Science of Self-Confidence (New York: HarperBusiness, 2014), e-book,  7.

Mastering imposter syndrome, and describing yourself in positive rather than self-deprecating ways, is critical for achieving power and success. If you do not think of yourself as powerful, competent, and deserving, it is likely that, in subtle and possibly not-so-subtle ways, you will communicate this self-assessment to others.

Here’s a practical exercise that you can do and then repeat occasionally as part of your personal development. Write down the adjectives you use to describe yourself, both to yourself and to others. Check with friends to see if your list is correct. Then ask yourself what descriptors you need to get rid of in order to project yourself in a more powerful way. Ask yourself what positive adjectives about yourself—language that gives credit to your accomplishments and credentials—you underutilize in your interactions with others.

Source: Jeffrey Pfeffer, 7 Rules of Power: Surprising–but True–Advice on How to Get Things Done and Advance Your Career (Dallas, TX: Matt Holt Books, 2022), e-book, 22.

When facing a challenge that makes us feel powerless—a new role, a tough conversation, an unfamiliar situation—it helps to ask ourselves, ahead of time, not Who do I fear I might be in there, but Who do I hope I might be like in there? What character can I internalize to have the impact I aspire to?

Source: Deborah Gruenfeld, Acting with Power: Why We Are More Powerful Than We Believe (New York: Currency, 2020), e-book, 100.

Whenever I doubt myself or I worry that I might be overstepping or thinking too big, I ask myself, “What would a White male do?” That usually snaps me right out of it! If it’s an idea he would pitch, if it’s a question he would ask without embarrassment, if it’s a move he would make, there’s no reason I shouldn’t do the same.

I refuse to compare my chapter 2 with someone else’s chapter 10. When others make unfair comparisons, I call them out, and when I find I’m starting to make comparisons, I call myself out. If you don’t give yourself room to grow, learn, and make mistakes, you’ll never make it to your chapter 10.

Source: Arlan Hamilton, It’s About Damn Time: How to Turn Being Underestimated into Your Greatest Advantage (New York: Crown, 2020), e-book, 163-4.

At that point Babineaux-Fontenot says she fell “hard and heavy” into impostor syndrome. “I was so insecure in my ability to deliver, I thought they got it wrong. It was a terrible idea. I wasn’t ready. But I didn’t want to fail at being the first African American woman to be the chief tax officer at the Fortune 500’ s biggest company. I felt compelled to plow ahead.” In the early days as chief tax officer, Babineaux-Fontenot felt out of her league and looked for a corporate model to follow. The only one she could find was the previous tax chief. He was the person who had hired her at Walmart and had been one of her clients when she was at the law firm. So she started doing what he did, trying to be like him. But things weren’t going well. She tried to act like she had all the answers, but she was overwhelmed, was falling behind, and felt like a failure for the first time in her career. “I don’t do well being a middle-aged white man from Alabama,” says Babineaux-Fontenot. “I played the role badly and saw myself failing miserably, and the problem with failure is that you never fail by yourself. I was dragging down my department.” 

After going through some tough self-assessment, she realized that something had to change. In her annual evaluation, she told her boss that what she was doing wasn’t working. “I told him that if I were going to fail, I was going to fail while being me, not an imitation of somebody else.”

Source: Dana Maor, Hans-Werner Kaas, Kurt Strovink, and Ramesh Srinivasan, The Journey of Leadership: How CEOs Learn to Lead from the Inside Out (New York: Portfolio/Penguin, 2024), e-book, 67.

Sometimes it’s a way of avoiding the well-known female imposter syndrome, the fear of being unmasked as unworthy or not up to the job. Sometimes you’re afraid you’ll be seen as a burden. Whatever the cause, it’s rarely an effective approach.

Women who assume new positions resolve to keep their heads down until they’ve mastered the details and are confident they can perform to a certain standard. They want to feel fully prepared before they start reaching out. By contrast, men in new positions often start with the question: “Who should I connect with to make this job a success?” They view the path to success not as a matter of what or how, but of who. They see connections as the most important part of their job and want to start building them on day one. The result of this who-centric approach? More support. Better positioning. Greater visibility. Less isolation. And not incidentally, a lot less work. 

Source: Sally Helgesen and Marshall Goldsmith, How Women Rise: Break the 12 Habits Holding You Back from Your Next Raise, Promotion, or Job (New York: Grand Central Publishing, 2018), e-book, 107.

No matter what bruises you sustained early in your life—be they physical or emotional—impostor syndrome doesn’t need to limit you. You can learn to work with it.

Here’s how: 

Step One: Realize you’re in good company. Many accomplished people live with impostor syndrome. Its sly tendrils still sneak into my life at times, even today. 

Step Two: Notice those internalized, critical, self-doubting voices when they talk to you, and understand they are not telling you the truth. Don’t believe them. 

Step Three: Believe the people who recognize your worth. (We’ll talk about these people in chapter 3.) When people compliment you or promote you, they are doing so because you earned it. Take that at face value. 

Step Four: In moments when you aren’t feeling confident, rather than letting impostor syndrome take the lead, adopt a “fake it ’til you make it” mentality, projecting the confidence you want to have until it grows roots in you. I still use this trick to this day. When I attended my first Verizon board meeting, I was intimidated. Verizon was a Fortune 14 company, with CEOs of other Fortune 500 companies and global experts on the board. Yes, I was a CEO and had board experience, but for significantly smaller companies. I prepped as much as I could and spoke to sitting board members to get advice. But when it was time to go to that meeting, despite my nervousness, I put my confident face on, stood tall, and repeated the mantra in my head: “Act like you know what you are doing, listen hard, and eventually you will know what you are doing.” 

Step Five: It’s awfully difficult to believe in yourself when you grow up in a society that doesn’t expect you to amount to much, but that’s your job: to overcome this obstacle and believe in yourself. 

Source: Shellye Archambeau, Unapologetically Ambitious: Take Risks, Break Barriers, and Create Success on Your Own Terms (New York: Grand Central, 2020), e-book, 18-20.

Given that everybody seems to feel it, is there hope that any of us can entirely escape the clutches of our impostor fears? Neil said yes—he remembers the point at which he stopped having the fantasy of the man with the clipboard knocking on his door. Was it when he won the Newbery Medal, I asked, or any of the other honors that have been bestowed upon him? No, he said, and he told me this: 

My friend Gene Wolfe actually really helped me with this. I was writing a book called American Gods, and it was a big impostor-syndrome book because I wanted to write this giant book about America, but I’m English, and I wanted to talk about all these—you know, just gods and religions and ways of seeing the world. But I finished American Gods and it took me about eighteen months of writing. And I was very pleased with myself. And I ran into Gene, and I said—and bear in mind this is, like, my third or fourth novel—“I’ve finished the first draft of my book American Gods, and I think I figured out how to write a novel.” And Gene looked at me with infinite pity and wisdom in his eyes and he said, “Neil, you never figure out how to write a novel; you just learn how to write the novel that you’re on.” 

​​You never figure out how to write a novel; you just learn how to write the novel that you’re on. Maybe that’s a critical truth about impostorism. Most of us will probably never completely shed our fears of being fraudulent. We’ll just work them out as they come, one by one. Just as I can’t promise that learning about presence will give you a Zen master existence in the “eternal now,” I can’t say that you will soon shed all your impostor anxieties forever. New situations may stoke old fears; future sensations of inadequacy might reawaken long-forgotten insecurities. But the more we are aware of our anxieties, the more we communicate about them, and the smarter we are about how they operate, the easier they’ll be to shrug off the next time they pop up. It’s a game of whack-a-mole we can win.

Source: Amy Cuddy, Presence: Bringing Your Boldest Self to Your Biggest Challenges (New York: Little, Brown Spark, 2015), e-book, 106-8.