Yes, I saw the Article in the New Yorker on the Imposter Syndrome


A February 2023 New Yorker article by Leslie Jamison about the Imposter Complex has been circulating widely. It’s called Not Fooling Anyone: The dubious rise of imposter syndrome (that’s the print version title…the on-line version is called Why Everyone Feels Like They’re Faking It) and it is, in my world, ubiquitous to say the least.

And given I’ve been sent it by just about every person who has ever come across my work, I figured it was time to address it.

After all, the article kind of suggests the Imposter Complex experience is a thing and also NOT a thing.

So, yeah. I have some thoughts.

Overall, I thought it was brilliantly written. It will be super eye-opening for many, and it gave me lots to consider in my own analysis. 

In particular, I appreciated:

  • the naming of family patterns (not something I’ve spent much time exploring, though birth order has been on my list of things to research);

  • the value of Gestalt therapy (and the reclamation of all of our parts);

  • the assertion that “the eminent are not immune”; 

  • the naming of the solipsism that can be part of the experience; and,

  • the rampant misdiagnosis/misnaming.

On that last point, here’s a great example:

Adaira Landry, an emergency-medicine physician at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and a faculty member at Harvard Medical School, told me about her first day at the U.C.L.A. med school. Landry, a first-generation college student from an African American family, met a fellow first-year student, a man, who was already wearing a white coat, although they hadn’t yet had their white-coat ceremony. His mother was in health care and his sister was in med school, and they’d informed him that if he wanted to be an orthopedic surgeon, which he did, it would be beneficial to start shadowing someone immediately. Landry went home that night feeling dispirited, as if she were already falling behind, and a classmate told her, “Don’t worry, you just have impostor syndrome.”

NOPE.

That’s not it.

“Imposter Phenomenon”, the concept named in 1978 by Clinical Psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes, means that we attribute failures to internal flaws and success to external factors that have precious little to do with us (e.g. luck, fluke, timing).

It’s not just about feeling behind. It’s about feeling like we don’t belong IN SPITE of the proof that we do. IN SPITE of the proof of our success.

Landry went on to explain,

“[Clance and Imes] interviewed a set of primarily white women lacking confidence, despite being surrounded by an educational system and workforce that seemed to recognize their excellence,” she told me. “As a Black woman, I was unable to find myself in that paper.”

Being in spaces where one’s competence is underestimated is NOT the same as feeling like your competence has been OVERestimated.

And that is a big BIG distinction.

What I seriously L O V E D about this article was the acknowledgment that whether we appreciate the naming of the experience or the removal of the naming, what sits at the epicentre of the relief is this:

“You are not an impostor. You are enough.”

It’s a fantastic article with lots of food for thought.

But before you head off to read it, I’m going to take this opportunity to clarify what I mean when I talk about navigating the Imposter Complex so we can feel unencumbered to create the kind of impact we’ve been called to create.

Like with everything else written by me (or anyone else, for that matter), my invitation is to remember that:

  • Much of this may be #simplenoteasy.

  • Context matters.

  • And I trust us to hold both/and.

Now, if you are new here, I suspect you will wonder why I say “Imposter Complex” over “Imposter Syndrome”. More in this reel here and in this cornerstone article I wrote here, but bottom-line is this: “syndrome” suggests a clinical diagnosis (this isn’t that), pathologizes this pretty typical human experience, and co-opts a medical term. (This is reinforced several times in the New Yorker article.)

So I say “Complex”.

Onward.

I want to start by noting that the global self-development industry is worth $41B as of 2021. That is a lot of money invested in making people feel like shit about themselves…and like they need to be fixed. (Think diet industry but for confidence.)

I also want to acknowledge that I work and operate INSIDE of this industry. 

And I see how it’s deeply problematic.

I see the gaslighting, the reductiveness, the toxic positivity and the manipulative and often even predatory practices that can run rampant throughout in the race for a slice of that $41B pie.

And of course, I can also see how self-development is deeply transformative, potently wonderful and life-affirming. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. (You’ll have to trust me on that one. Being in this business is not for the faint of heart.)

It’s also worth noting that  Imposter Complex is good for business.

The article names this too, through the words of Australian scholar and critic Rebecca Harkins-Cross: “Capitalism needs us all to feel like impostors, because feeling like an impostor ensures we’ll strive for endless progress: work harder, make more money, try to be better than our former selves and the people around us.”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

And given all that, I think it is unhelpful to assign Imposter Syndrome/Imposter Complex to every experience of self–doubt like an Oprah-styled giveaway.

PARTICULARLY to folks who have been overlooked, underestimated and systemically excluded.

ANDDDDDD…when I first started the exploration back in 2012, I confess, I saw it everywhere. I had a bit that I would do about being like the father in “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” who could tie every English word back to Greek origins.

But instead of Greek to English, I could tie certain behaviours to the Imposter Complex. The behaviours being people-pleasing, diminishment, perfectionism, procrastination, comparison and leaky boundaries. 

All along, I was open and committed to exploring WHAT ELSE was contributing to these behaviours, but I still saw the inextricable link to the Imposter Complex. How they were tactics to avoid feeling like an imposter.

AND that these behaviours in and of themselves were not just avoidance tactics, but potentially ways of staying safe. If anyone reading has been told they don’t belong, committed the sin of outshining or was hypervigilant as a stress response, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Over time, I continued to see that only talking about the experience of imposterhood and NOT talking about what the WHAT ELSE was going on kept the focus on the toxic positivity I abhorred and wasn’t acknowledging the effects of systemic oppression.

The “WHAT ELSE”, of course, being patriarchy, capitalism, and white supremacy culture.

Y’know…no big deal.
/s

(I was yesterday years old when I learned that “/s” meant “sarcasm” given how written text doesn’t always translate…but I digress.)

My podcast series, Ready Enough with Tanya Geisler aimed to address some of this.

In the intro, I said:

“To a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

I’m Tanya Geisler...a pretty seasoned expert at hammering back at the Impostor Complex. For myself, with my clients and with my readers.

But sometimes it’s not a nail. Sometimes it’s microaggressions. Or racism. Or homophobia. Or fat-phobia. Or alcohol. Or anxiety. Or discrimination. Or systemic obstacles by patriarchal structures designed to keep women, women-identified people, women of colour, LGBTQI folks and other marginalized people from climbing to the top.

This is The Ready Enough Podcast with Tanya Geisler. And with my guests, we'll be discerning when it's a nail, and when it's something else. These conversations about the Imposter Complex won’t be perfect, but we’re Ready Enough to have them.”

(FWIW - I don’t talk about marginalized folks any more…I talk about folks being systemically excluded. More accurate.)

Every day, as the idea of the Imposter Complex gains more and more traction in general, the misinformation and misdiagnosis named in the New Yorker article becomes more and more absurd.

And reductive.

The other day, I listened to a podcast that said that Imposter Syndrome makes you lie and swing out with more audacity. Nope. That’s the exact OPPOSITE experience and that’s called the Dunning-Kruger effect (where folks have high confidence and low ability/skill).

Now, at times, the Imposter Complex MAY insist that you “fake it ‘til you make it” but as my pod guest Janelle Allen pointed out, that is some super privilege nonsense right there. Like, who GETS to the opportunity to “fake it ‘til you make it”?

In our conversation, Allen said: 

There's something that we say in the Black community: of you have to try twice as hard for half the reward. And that's absolutely real. There's not always that opportunity to just be good enough. That a lot of people who are not POC particularly, you know, white cisgendered men have this [experience where are just brought on] without having a portfolio or showing any results and it's just on [their] word that [they’ll] figure this thing out. 

“That is why it, it grates at me because it's just not the reality for many of us. Many of us have the expertise, we have the experience and yet we are constantly questioned at every turn.”

In the same vein, Jamison cites ANOTHER important article I’ve shared in the past:

In “Stop Telling Women They Have Imposter Syndrome,” published in the Harvard Business Review, in February, 2021, Ruchika Tulshyan and Jodi-Ann Burey argue that the label implies that women are suffering from a crisis of self-confidence and fails to recognize the real obstacles facing professional women, especially women of color — essentially, that it reframes systemic inequality as an individual pathology. As they put it, “Imposter syndrome directs our view toward fixing women at work instead of fixing the places where women work.”

Yes. Right.

Dr. Kevin Cokley,  an African-American counseling psychologist whose research and work focuses on folks in the global majority who are navigating predominantly white spaces said this in this important piece:

“Can we say discrimination causes impostorism? No, but we know there’s definitely a link between the two,” he said. “Feeling like an impostor can exacerbate the impact of discrimination. This is what we found with African-American students in our study. I suspect that discrimination can also exacerbate the impact of impostorism.”

And where you have been overlooked, you are more susceptible to the experience.

Did the aforementioned systems create the Imposter Complex?

I’m pretty sure they did.

Do these systems exacerbate the Imposter Complex experience?

100%

Do we need to find ways to navigate the experience so we can speak up enough to dismantle the very systems that created and uphold said experience?

Most definitely.

I shared a reel exploring this paradox born out of this powerful quote here:

“What if imposter syndrome is a precursor to realizing you are here to disrupt and revolutionize the status quo? What if being an imposter to an oppressive system means you are here to tear it down?” Bunny Michael

Oof.

Jamison closes the article with this:

“The phenomenon names an unspoken, ongoing crisis arising from the gaps between these various versions of the self, and designates not a syndrome but an inescapable part of being alive.”

Right.

And in this crisis, if unattended, we may find ourselves hedging on calling out injustices; stopping from using the privilege we have to stand in the gaps of those who have been systemically excluded; and NOT working to build better, more inclusive tables that serve everyone, not just whiteness. 

Listen…I am the very first person to admit that I do not have the silver bullet. 

And my explorations and recommendations may be indeed be simple, not easy and MOST definitely not for everyone.

But I do know that narratives need to be rewritten.

Collectively.
AND individually.
Both/and.

If you are clear that you are experiencing  the effects of Imposter Complex and you want to — really and truly want to —  take the (metaphorical) stage with your message, your vocation, your calling, I’m certain it will be worth every moment of tension.

It will involve you being brave and decisive enough to confront (ALL) the reasons you have stayed out of action (both internal and external factors) and address the resistance that is keeping you from what you say you want and what matters to the collective.

It will require you to look at all you have done, without the red pen of editorializing and discounting the efforts you’ve made and the outcomes you’ve created.

It will demand that you not go this alone. It will mean you will need to divest from the rugged individualism that has been deeply conditioned, that you gather your people, assemble your cast, bring your fans in close and trust in them. 

But above all, it will demand that YOU trust in YOU.

Again, simple, not easy.

If you’re ready to get to work on this and want some support, we should talk.


Click here for my free training:

Five ICONIC shifts leaders use to overcome Imposter Complex.

Amber Kinney
Five Useful Metaphors about the Imposter Complex

Let’s do a recap of what we know to be true about the Imposter Complex by now, shall we?

We know it wants to keep us out of action. It’s an instrument of evolution, designed to ensure folks don’t evolve too quickly.

We know it wants to keep us alone and isolated, disconnecting us from our most fundamental need to belong

We know it wants to have us doubt our capacity, making every time we step up to do our meaningful work or say the hard thing that much more challenging. (“Who do you think YOU are?” and all that.)

We know it accomplishes this by having us believe 12 specific lies.

We know it bullies us into hiding out in specific habits: perfectionism, procrastination, comparison, people-pleasing, diminishment, and leaky boundaries.

(And we also know those coping mechanisms hold golden shadows too and are the keys to your ICONIC Identity, so don’t be gaslighting yourself, my friend.)

All this to say, we know a lot.

But I do love me some metaphors, and here are a few for you to play with.

Five Useful Metaphors

You don’t need to use all of these with yourself or your team, as that can be confusing. As ever, find what resonates for you.

1. The Imposter Complex is a party crasher, stealing the joy and celebration you’ve earned.

It’s perpetually telling us we haven’t done “enough” to celebrate. And of course, as I’ve said a million times, the ego wants to want more than it wants to get. That’s why it’s IMPERATIVE that we track our wins. Drink deeply from the chalice of all you HAVE done and been.

2. It’s like quicksand. The more you fight it, the more it sucks you in.

(I mean, I GUESS that’s how quicksand works if Saturday morning cartoons taught me anything.) The more you try to tackle any ONE aspect of its habits (perfectionism, procrastination, comparison, people-pleasing, diminishment, and leaky boundaries), the more likely another one is gonna pop up. That’s why we need to get into the belly of the beast. (Consider that a bonus metaphor.)

3. It’s a backseat driver scrambling to take over the wheel of your Formula 1 race car.

I mean, not all the time. Just at the really important turns.  One of my favorite clients said that the work I do is like a Formula 1 suit. If, somehow, the Imposter Complex DOES manage to gain control of the car and hurl you into a corner, the work will protect you.

4. It’s a quick moving fog.

You can learn to predict when it shows up, (usually on the precipice of something important, like say, a hairpin turn on the racetrack of your activation) but generally can flick on your flashlight faster when you know how it operates… and how it operates uniquely for you. Because that’s the thing…the Imposter Complex impacts us each distinctly.

5. It’s a magnet.

Depending on how you wield it, it can either repel connection by keeping you isolated or attract beautiful connection. Because what you should ALSO know is that you are in exquisite company. Go ahead and name it. And watch as the empathy and that desired connection spread and grow.

So yeah, the Imposter Complex is indeed a tameable beast. But again, we need to get into its belly to control it.

Which you can do right here in this training as we tackle Imposter Complex together, freeing you up to be the whole you that you are.


Click here for my free training:

Five ICONIC shifts leaders use to overcome Imposter Complex.

Tanya Geisler
50 Gifts to myself on my 50th birthday.

I turned 50 years old today.

It’s an age that holds a lot of meaning for some.

I know some folks who would give anything to get to this age.
I know plenty who say that life begins at this age.

Most people say it’s just a number.

And then there’s Mrs A – our Trinidadian octagenarian neighbour who revealed that she would only celebrate my 50th and my 75th with that wild twinkle in her eye that I have come to count on over the years.

Given that sagacity is one of the few things our culture seems to prize about aging, I thought I’d share what I have LEARNED over 50 years…to like about myself. 

Because acknowledgement is a sacred gift, and it’s one I’m gifting myself this year.

Without further ado…let’s roll.

  1. I like how I parent.

  2. I like how I partner.

  3. I like how I coach.

  4. I like how I sister.

  5. I like how I daughter (and even how I bonus-daughter and how I daughter-in-law).

  6. I like how I friend.

  7. I finally like my eyebrows, my hair and my ankles.

  8. I like my style…in most, if not, all ways.

  9. I like the business I have created.

  10. I like the team I have gathered.

  11. I like my self-care regimens…mostly.

  12. I like that every morning, I can find 108 things to be grateful for before I get out of bed...even on the roughest of mornings.

  13. I like the communities of care and friend groups I have gathered.

  14. I like how I grieve. I don’t like all the practice I’ve had, but I like how I grieve.

  15. I like how I receive.

  16. I like that I know I am a Star Maker.

  17. I like that I smell possibility in others like a bloodhound. And then I hold it lightly for them to see too…if they so desire.

  18. I like that I get results.

  19. I like that I only work with folks who are in pure integrity and refuse to work with folks who are not.

  20. I like how I do not abandon myself any longer for the fleeting admiration of another.

  21. I like that I am surrounded by honest folks who love me enough to offer conscious critique, and hold me accountable.

  22. I like that I have started to treat my energy as the precious resource that it is, and attend to it with reverence.

  23. I like who I am and I still like who I am becoming.

  24. I like that I have some grace about always being in a state of transition and that I no longer try to white knuckle certainty.

  25. I like knowing that to be ICONIC, you will (I will) face the Imposter Complex twice.

  26. I like my body of work.

  27. I like my body.

  28. I like that I can feel the visceral response to writing #27 and know that body shame is deep and requires care, and still, I know the truth of #27 and all the work that went into having it be so. 

  29. I like that I am developing a new appreciation for rest that will serve me well for the balance of my life.

  30. I like that I no longer need to spend time with people who choose to be exclusively negative. 

  31. I like my 50 stack practice…a way to connect to the truth that sits on the other side of most of the disempowering beliefs that I no longer buy into.

  32. I like that I no longer try to convince people to “do better” and that I can see the extraordinary and inherent arrogance that I was holding. 

  33. I like that I no longer pretend to be okay when I’m not. I gift myself grace and space to want, ask for, and receive emotional support…and more if what I’m given is not sufficient.

  34. I like that "I need time to process how I feel" is perfectly reasonable, and often, THE most appropriate way to respond.⁠ I've spent far too much time in my life enabling others to feel okay about their less-than-stellar behaviour. ⁠(And that's precisely what we're doing when we rush past our feelings and into the resolution.⁠)

  35. ⁠I like that I don't do that any more.⁠

  36. ⁠I like that I am okay with recognizing that I am not for everyone. 

  37. I like that I can take that even further to say: not only am I not for everyone, but I like that I have become somewhat ambivalent about being liked. (Whew.)

  38. I like my energy and recognize that others do too..and some will seek to bleed me of it, so it’s a precious resource I need to tend to (cf: #22), especially if I want to keep liking my energy.

  39. (Clearly, I also like spirals.)

  40. I like that I generally make excellent decisions borne out of BOTH due diligence and intuition.

  41. I like that I am serious when I tell my clients that I’m not attached to being right about something, which means I am equally serious when I assert that I am right about something.

  42. I like that I’m also super fine with being wrong…and work hard on making reparations when required.

  43. I like that I am still working on divesting from praise and criticism. Still.

  44. I like that I no longer force staying in relationships, spaces and places that have faded out of alignment for me.

  45. I like that I live inside my friend Staci’s invitation to, “make beautiful new memories so your best days aren’t always in the distant past.”

  46. I like that I saw a loooooooong time ago that perfectionism was a hungry ghost I could not/would not ever satiate.

  47. I like that I know that I know more than I think and I’ll never know it all.

  48. I like that I know that the version of me someone else feels that they require me to be is not one bit of my responsibility.

  49. I like that I am unapologetic about finding and fostering joy.

  50. I like telling people that I AM Tanya Geisler. Because I know who I am and I know what I uphold and I know where I’m going.

Yeah. That’s a lot to like about being 50.

With so much more to come. I’ll swing back around and add to this list when I turn 75.

Thank you for being here…because I sure like YOU very much. Your presence, your attention, and your care are gifts that mean the world to me.


Click here for my free training:

Five ICONIC shifts leaders use to overcome Imposter Complex.

Tanya Geisler
ICONIC with the ICs

“You can’t spell ICONIC without IC…(dramatic pause)...twice” is one of my favourite bits of wordplay to drop in my teachings. Meaning, that the moment you decide that you are here to be ICONIC, the Imposter Complex is gonna come for you. 

Can you see that?

Overwhelm
People-pleasing
Diminishment
Comparison
Procrastination
Perfectionism
Leaky Boundaries

...and tries to keep you out of action, doubting your capacity, and alone and isolated.

And yet somehow, if you manage to push through and step in with your ICONIC self, you’re STILL not done with it because it sits at the end of the word, too, as you consider your next phase and stage.

Who do you think you are to move onto the next level?
You just got here because you got lucky, and now you want to jinx that by wanting MORE?
You’re greedy and selfish. It’s not safe. Stay where you are.

It’s exhausting. It really is. Trust me.

And while I would LOVE to say my work eradicates the IC, it doesn’t. Because as long as you are here to do your world-changing ICONIC work, the Imposter Complex WILL try to come for you. Coming and going.

But what my work DOES is help smooth out the curves. Helps with a faster recovery. Lets you know what exactly is going on so you can make better, more aligned decisions that have you in the driver’s seat, the director’s chair, or in the spotlight. Whatever you choose. And wherever you are supposed to be.

With action. With confidence. And with community.


Click here for my free training:

Five ICONIC shifts leaders use to overcome Imposter Complex.

Tanya Geisler
There she goes.

Dearest Lauren - 

The first time I sensed a craving to meet your magnificent self, I was 25. Your father and I had been dating since my first year of university and were on the other side of the wobbliness of early love and immaturity and I could already feel you with us. Clear as day. And your name was always Lauren.

I had a whispered sense that you were to have a sibling, but could never see them the way I could see you. Thick and wavy-haired and a sparkler of a human. Compassionate, wise and hilarious.

It took you a while to grow into the hair and the humour I had pre-seen…but when you did, my Lord, did you ever. Like everything you do, you do with gusto.

The first time I experienced the tension between marvelling in your evolution and wanting things to stay exactly as they are was the first time I cried when putting on your “watch me grow”-emblazoned onesie–a gift from your grandmother. It was adorable and precious, and yet it bit at my heart.

The first time I experienced the sense of my heart being outside of me was your first day of Kindergarten. I came home and tumbled tearfully into the loving arms of the mother figure that was our neighbour Lynne. 

And in each of those moments I’ve named, I imagined this day. “The heart-ripping day L leaves”, as the file that I started for this letter was called. I didn’t know if it would be heading into your dorm room like we’re doing today, or if you’d be moving into your first apartment, or into a friend’s place, or on a year-long solo adventure. I didn’t know the shapes, the details, the names and the places, but I knew it was coming. The slowest moving train that’s been steadily approaching for 18 years has finally arrived at the station. 

Ready to take you on an extraordinary journey filled with the wonder and excitement of new quests, sights, and people. 

The joy and pride and excitement and gratitude we feel on your behalf is immeasurable. 

And also? The grief.

Listen. You KNOW I tried in vain to get ahead of the grief, but it came just the same. Because it’s like Staci said yesterday morning over our weekly coffee date: The moment you entered into our lives, you became the centre of our universe.

And as many well-intending friends keep reminding me, you’ll only be ten subway stops away. TEN. But you’re not going to be in this house every day like you have been for the past 18 years, and for that, I am straight up sad. For ME.

I will miss more than I can name. The idle chats and big opinions as we snuggle in to watch Glow Up or some other show your dad can’t be bothered with, your warm hand resting on my forearm where it’s rested since you were five. The little erasers here and the friendship bracelets there that hearken back to the days of your teeny tiny toys strewn about the house. The heart-to-hearts on the drives to school, and later, work. The twice yearly dental visits and follow-up drugstore run for chips (not sweets) as was our tradition. The casual “love you” tossed over your shoulder as you passed my office on your way out the door. The impromptu kitchen dance parties. The non-sequiturs. The way you’ve never been too old for the ice cream truck. The morning ‘fit check. The tickle on my nose from your aforementioned glorious hair when we hug. The lightness of your extraordinary energy that just makes every room you enter…better.

In French, “I miss you” is “tu me manques”.

Literally, “you are missing of me”.

It’s like that.

It’s very much and precisely and exactly like that.

You are missing of me.

But while I will miss your daily presence, I will never ever miss our love and connection. Because nothing about that will change.

This is YOUR time, Lauren Denise. 

Your time for you to expand your mind and grow into the greatness of your potential. Your time to trust into yourself and your good decisions and your fathoms-deep heart. Your time to decide what you wish to take of us, and what to leave behind. Time for you to grow even beyond us.

We will be here cheering you on. Joyful that the world gets even more of you, magnificent you. Cracked open by the most astonishingly immense love that continues to take my breath away. Unendingly grateful you chose us to be your parents. 

…the gift of a lifetime and the easiest gig ever.

Mama


Click here for my free training:

Five ICONIC shifts leaders use to overcome Imposter Complex.

Amber Kinney