The Imposter Syndrome: Faking It

Have you ever been in a situation where you find yourself singing the Sesame Street classic: one of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn’t belong, can you tell which thing is not like the others? 

And it’s you that doesn’t belong, you are the thing that is not like the others. 

I’m not sure when my immense feeling of like a fraud and like I was waiting for someone to notice that I was winging it first appeared, but by the time I did my Master’s Degree when I was 25, it was in full swing. I’m now 29, I passed my Master’s Degree with Merit, narrowly missing a Distinction, I’ve been surviving (sometimes even thriving!) as a full time freelance writer for a few years but I still have the feeling that I somehow created an illusion of being intelligent enough to earn my Masters or I’m tricking people into paying me for my writing. 

I thought I was alone in this bubble of faking it but this feeling has a name: Imposter Syndrome. Defined as the persistent inability to believe that one's success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one's own efforts or skills. And for me, my feelings of Imposter Syndrome hangs out hand-in-hand with my perfectionist nature. 

The Gender of Imposters

The term ‘Imposter Syndrome’ or ‘Imposter Phenomenon’ was coined in the 1970s by two clinical psychologists, Dr Pauline Clance and Dr Suzanne Imes. After interviewing 150 highly successful women who had degrees, scholastic honours, high achievements at work, regularly receiving praise and professional recognition, but despite all this, reported that they felt no internal sense of success and considered themselves to be imposters. 

Turning to my highly scientific research method of creating a Whatsapp group, I asked my group of female friends who are from a mix of working and middle class backgrounds – all of whom are successful, well-educated and are generally living their best lives – if they ever felt the pressure or weight of imposter syndrome. The consensus was generally, they were often left feeling inferior in a professional setting if their workplace setting was male dominated from a high socio-economic background. One of my friends works in a niche field, dominated by women and she feels supported and heard at work. Does this mean that women are more pre-disposed to feeling like imposters in a work setting? Not really. 

In an exploratory paper published in Personality and Individual Differences, ‘Are all impostors created equal? Exploring gender differences in the impostor phenomenon-performance link’, a team of researchers claim that under pressure, men actually may be impacted harder by imposter syndrome than women, triggering further anxiety and impacting their performance further. They speculate that the difference in impact from these feelings of fraud are due to the weight of traditional gender norms, our society expects men to be more qualified, competent, masculine and ultimately, more sure of themselves.

The idea that men might not be safe from these feelings of faking it or being found out isn’t a surprise to me at all. In fact, my partner, Scott, has been working as a Motion Designer for almost ten years, he is wildly creative and so unbelievably talented. However, he constantly undercharges, undervalues and doubts the quality of his work. Scott and I both come from similar working-class backgrounds, the only difference is that I spent a ridiculous amount on my education by going to university and he didn’t. Could class be a factor in how likely you are to feel a fraud? 

Class Based Shame

My working-class background surprises most people, I have somehow accidentally turned out softly spoken with a home counties accent, although definitely not quite RP; I’m also 5ft 3, blonde and white. I grew up in an average part of Greater London and my secondary school had a connection to the only good college in the area so getting good grades meant that I had access to further education. I studied (read) History at Goldsmiths, University of London, fell into my first proper job, before returning to study a Master’s Degree in Historical Research at Birkbeck, University of London. I don’t seem working-class, whatever that means. I guess whatever image of working-class someone has in their head, I don’t fit it. Has this image of fake middle class added to my feelings of imposter syndrome? Who knows.

I’ll never forget being in a seminar for my undergrad, I’d done the class reading, as well as the additional reading, however, a guy who we’d already learnt earlier in the year was pretty wealthy, turned up to the seminar hungover AF and despite admitting that he hadn’t done the reading, spent fifteen minutes speaking over me and insisting the text that had been a metaphor for how rhinos felt… (it wasn’t). Was he allowed to speak absolute nonsense because he was posh and arrogant? I wish this was an isolated incident, but unfortunately, it happened throughout our first year. Is that where I got my feelings of imposter syndrome? Probably not, but it definitely made me feel like my voice, experience and input was less valuable than this hot mess with a posh accent. 

I’m sure Rory (Rhino-guy), has ended up fitting perfectly in the same Boys Club that creates the uncomfortable atmosphere at work that makes my friends in the Whatsapp group doubt themselves. Although of course, for all I know, he’s now having to contend with someone speaking absolute rubbish over him all the time. (Doubtful though). 

Whilst researching this article, I read Steal as Much as You Can by Nathalie Olah, and I found this quote particularly interesting: 

When we think about “impostor syndrome”, there are several underlying biases we should address: the unquestioned deference towards the displays of confidence taught by private schooling, not to mention the painting of confidence-verging-on-egoism as “normal” and “sane”, while everyone else is painted as deficient. But every month I see fresh takes in the media on how to overcome the feeling of being an impostor, by ironing out tendencies that diverge from the prescribed, middle-class standards of professionalism, and embodying that same “confidence” taught by private schooling.

Did you know that roughly only about 7% of the UK popular has been privately educated, but a HUGE 65% of senior judges and a similar percentage of the current Conservative Government were privately educated? It’s even more disproportionate in the media and creative industries. How much deference do we unconsciously give to those that radiate the confidence of a private education? How often do we let the Rory’s of the world speak over us because inside we’re sure what they’re saying is more important than what we have to say? Is a world where it’s just who shouts the loudest and speaks the poshest, one we really want to live in?

Fighting the Feelings

Obviously, there’s a huge link between our mental and physical health and psychologists believe that we can re-program our neural pathways to overcome the feelings of imposter syndrome. Psychologists suggest all the things that we should do to be living our best lives really: regular exercise, nice food, good sleep, practise positive thinking by valuing ourselves, focusing on our strengths and achievements. Start each day with the positivity that you want for the day, finish the day with a reminder of the great things that have happened. 

A course of talking therapy, such as CBT, can also be great for helping you to re-align your thoughts. Talking in general is a great thing for your mental health, encouraging self-reflection as well as generally strengthening your feelings of a support network, is always going to boost your self-esteem and sense of self. 

Ultimately, it also helps to know that this isn’t a you problem, this is a systemic societal problem. Where we have built a hierarchy based on faux meritocracy and who can speak with the most certainty and knows the most people. But it helps to know there’s ways to make you realise your value, even if we can’t change the way we’ve built Western society overnight. 

Having had talking therapy in the past and with a strong network of people to talk to around me, I’ve begun to feel like maybe this is just who I am as a person. But I hope not, deep down, I know I can write because otherwise people wouldn’t pay me to do it, I know that the things I say do have value and I am thoughtful, sensitive and insightful, all attributes that along with a great memory for dates, make me a good friend. I know I do have value but sometimes, in the moment, I forget all of these great things about myself and I go silent, I don’t submit a pitch, or I bail on even trying for a brand new opportunity because I don’t believe I’m good enough. 2020 is the year that I’ve begun to challenge that opinion of myself, 2020 is the year that I will have the confidence of 2009-Rory-the-Rhino-Guy. 


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Written by Saloni Chamberlain

Hi, I'm Saloni, loni to most! A native Londoner, I've recently relocated with my partner and our two cats to sunny Weston-super-Mare! I work as a freelance writer and I think I'm generally quite funny. My favourite word is plethora, I've never said it out loud but it's just so fancy written down.