Martha Stewart Laughs at Imposter Syndrome—What’s the Joke?

When Martha Stewart laughed off a question about experiencing imposter syndrome, it sparked a wave of reactions. I’ve had dozens of people (and counting) send me the clip—some inspired, some annoyed, some just… puzzled.

For many folks, her laugh was aspirational—a woman so self-assured, she doesn’t waste time second-guessing herself. Fantastic! For others, it was a clear sign of privilege: the kind that allows someone to move through the world without ever questioning their place, finding the very idea of doubt absurd.

FWIW: I loved the Martha Stewart documentary. I appreciate the way she is exactly who she says she is. Authenticity is compelling, and there’s something undeniably magnetic about her confidence. (And I will never use a small knife to cut an orange, if I ever did.)

But laughing at the Imposter Syndrome? Feels complicated.

Because for most trailblazers, the Imposter Complex (IC) is real. And yet, it’s deeply misunderstood, misused, and the way we talk about it can be weaponized in all manners of ways that leave people—especially women and systemically excluded leaders—out of action and questioning their worth…which is what the IC is already trying to do.

The Difference Between Underestimated and Overestimated

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again and again: being in spaces where your competence is underestimated is not the same as feeling like your competence has been overestimated.

When you stop short of raising your hand and challenging the status quo because the institutional groundcover to support you isn’t there, that’s not a “play bigger, stop diminishing” problem or an IC problem. That’s a “this-system-isn’t-designed-for-me” problem.

And feeling like you don’t belong is worlds apart from being told you don’t belong.

But here’s the thing: the IC doesn’t ask about context. It doesn’t care whether your doubts come from systemic barriers or internal struggles. It just whispers, “You don’t belong here,” leaving you questioning your worth. And that’s why it’s so damaging—it isolates, invalidates, and keeps trailblazers out of action, even when their competence is beyond question.

And this is why we need tools.

The Dunning-Kruger Effect and Trailblazers: A Tale of Two Extremes

The clip of Martha captured momentum just as cabinet appointments in the US fill with individuals who are largely glaringly unqualified, making it impossible to ignore the stark contrast between the Dunning-Kruger effect and the Imposter Complex.

On one side, we see people emboldened by systems designed to cushion their falls, confidently overestimating their competence. On the other, trailblazers—overprepared, undervalued, and constantly second-guessing their place in the room—must navigate spaces that weren’t built for them.

For women, systemically excluded folks, and anyone breaking barriers, this isn’t a theoretical divide—it’s lived. And it’s exhausting.

The PMS Parallel: Diminished and Weaponized

When folks are told, “Oh, you just have imposter syndrome,” but the reality is that they’re being underestimated, it’s beyond infuriating. It’s reductive. It’s gaslighting. It’s like telling a woman who has the audacity to not smile because she’s over it, “You must have PMS.” It’s insulting. It’s a huge NOPE.

We know better. But knowing better doesn’t erase the existence of PMS—or the Imposter Complex. Both are real experiences. They might not be an actual issue for the accused in that moment, but denying that they exist at all isn’t the answer either.

The IC already isolates and invalidates. It keeps trailblazers out of action and doubting their worth. Dismissing its existence doesn’t solve the problem—it amplifies it.

I Feel Fear. I Should Feel Fear.

Fear is an instrument of evolution—and so too is the Imposter Complex. When I hear someone say they laugh in the face of fear, it doesn’t inspire me. It just makes me feel like I’m getting one more thing wrong.

Every time I take the stage, I feel the fear that THIS is the time I fall flat on my face. THIS is the time they find out I’m not supposed to be here.

And so, I remember the words of Viola Davis in an interview after she won an Oscar: "I still feel like when I walk on the set, I'm starting from scratch, until I realize, 'OK, I do know what I'm doing. I'm human.'" Her words embolden me, reminding me that even icons feel the weight of doubt—but they press on, grounded in their humanity and their craft.

And then I step into the spotlight, and I give it all I have because the audience deserves nothing less.

Feeling fear isn’t failure. It’s intended to keep you safe. The IC is no different. It shows up when you’re about to do bold, audacious work—work that challenges you to grow. And it’s not a fan of that. Learning to work with it, rather than against it, is the work I teach.

Reframing the IC as the Trailblazers’ Complex

That’s also why I call it the Trailblazers’ Complex. It’s not a symptom of inadequacy—it’s a sign of growth. It shows up when you’re leading in spaces that weren’t necessarily designed for you, challenging the status quo, and paving the way for others to follow.

Trailblazers are the ones willing to go first. They’re the ones breaking down walls, questioning norms, and daring to create something entirely new. That kind of boldness doesn’t come without resistance—both from within and from the world around you.

The Way Forward

Martha Stewart laughed. Maybe she’s never felt the Imposter Complex. Maybe she’s always had the confidence to walk into every room and own it. That’s her story. I love that for her.

But for most of us—especially those carving new paths—the IC is real. And if we allow it to be, it will simply be a signal that we’re stepping into the unknown, blazing trails where few have dared to go.

Here’s what to do when it shows up:

  • Pause. Recognize that doubt is part of the process.

  • Take the bold steps forward anyway.

  • Name it for what it is: a signal of expansion.

This experience doesn’t mean you’re not ready—it means you’re on the edge of something extraordinary. Something like everything.

So: name it. Deal with it. And then keep going, icons.

This is your moment.

And yes, it’s a good thing.

Tanya Geisler