Imposter

I can talk myself out of almost anything. 

I’m pretty good about talking myself into things as well…at least the talking part. I’m good at the talking part. I’m convincing. And that convincing is sometimes my downfall. Maybe downfall is too weighted a phrase. Downfall implies failure rather than subdued success. 

Let me back up. A few months ago, freshly returned from Peru, I was scheduled to present at a national conference with a panel of my colleagues. We hadn’t practiced before I left. I’d left a draft of a presentation and the information wasn’t new to us…still, we hadn’t stitched together who would do and say what to ensure seamlessness. 

The night before our plenary, my colleague and I fell into a discussion about nervousness about the presentation. The fact that she shared my own inner dialogue of self-doubt surprised me. The fact that my inner dialogue had a name – imposter complex/syndrome- surprised me further.  For some reason I assumed I was special (and not in a good way). 

This is my Imposter brain thinks.

I surround myself with so many competent people- hell, accomplished people. Entrepreneurs, PhDs, engineers, and creative souls. I get lost in conversations about their work and next steps- about their triumphs and accomplishments. It is easy to assume that the world is full of only those people because my world is filled with so many of them. Moreover, it is easy to assume that those people don’t have doubts- don’t second guess. 

Hanging out with an entrepreneurial friend who was surprised at a new opportunity she landed floored me. How did she not assume she would be selected for that opportunity, the work description was practically written for her- it seemed to mirror her resume, her experience, her skills. And still, she relayed to me that she was uncertain. 

It isn’t that I think I’m stupid. Please don’t misunderstand me. I know things. I know I know things. Sometimes I just question what I know…my expertise…in comparison to the world around me. My inner monologue questions my expertise. 

When Kony 2012 went viral in the social mediasphere I attempted to hunker down. Without watching the 30 minute video I knew how I felt about the whole thing and wanted to ignore it until it all went away. But people kept tagging me in the video and asking my opinion.  I finally relented and watched, and subsequently weighed in along with the rest of the development world.

I couldn’t figure out why anyone would ask but a friend pointed out my work and life experience in both development work and in sub-Saharan Africa. I have years in both and yet, I still felt like an imposter. 

When I started my job more than two years ago, I switched concentrations. It was still public health but a move from global health- where I concentrated on potable water and malaria – to violence prevention – with a concentration on trauma and hospital-based violence intervention.

Closer to the truth.

My first assignment was a literature review that took forever to pull together into a coherent document that explained the research on trauma. When I finished it, I didn’t think about it much. I didn’t consider the hours spent poring over hundreds of articles and synthesizing them into something meaningful. So, months later when I found myself at a meeting circling around topics of trauma and trauma informed practices, I was surprised when I found myself vocal about what should happen with thethe project we were discussing. As the meeting progressed my voice, and that of a PhD with research concentration in trauma, were the voices the meeting kept returning to. 

Later, when I recounted my surprise to my boss, she shrugged and said, “you are an expert on this, you’ve been researching for months.”

Of course I had, but my inner dialogue kept me in check. My inner voice was busy shouting that what I knew was what everyone else knew. Even if it that isn’t true. 

I’m starting to get accustomed to that. I’m starting to feel more…confident isn’t the right word…entitled maybe is closer…to having my say in conversations around the work that I do. It isn’t that I assume my voice is the right one, but that I trust that I have something worthwhile to contribute to the discussion.