Imposters syndrome

I won’t lie, the first time I heard the term “Imposter Syndrome,” I thought it sounded like one of those fancy psychological things meant for people in big cities or high positions. You know, like CEOs or artists who suddenly got famous and couldn’t believe it. But with time, I realised it wasn’t just about job titles or how big your achievements looked on paper. It was about that silent voice inside your head that tells you, “You’re not supposed to be here. You don’t belong here.”

My own story isn’t dramatic, but it’s real. It was during my second year in school. I had just been selected to represent my department at a faculty wide academic quiz. It was a big deal. People I admired were clapping for me. Lecturers were saying things like, “We believe in you,” and all I could think was, “Why me?”

I wasn’t the best student. In fact, the first year was rough. I had a few courses where I barely scraped through. So when I got the call to represent my department, I immediately thought it was a mistake. I even went to the office to ask if they were sure. Imagine that.

I spent weeks preparing, not because I was confident, but because I was afraid of failing in front of everyone. I read like someone possessed. I went over topics I had ignored before, watched YouTube tutorials, and even begged a friend to test me every night. Still, even with all that, I walked into that hall on the quiz day shaking. I was convinced I didn’t deserve to be sitting at the same table with students who, in my mind, were far more brilliant than I could ever be.

But here’s the twist. I won. Our team came first. And not just barely. We smashed it. And even as I smiled for the pictures and held the little certificate they gave us, that same voice inside me whispered, “They just got lucky. It wasn’t really you. They’ll soon find out.”

That’s what imposter syndrome does. It eats away at your confidence, even when your results are saying otherwise. It makes you question the work you’ve put in and convince yourself it was just luck or pity.

What made it worse was the praise that followed. People were coming to shake my hand, saying things like, “You’re really intelligent,” and instead of accepting it, I just kept nodding and smiling, feeling like a fraud.

I remember going back to my room that night and just sitting in silence. I was proud, yes, but at the same time, I felt guilty. Like I had deceived everyone. I started thinking about all the times I didn’t do well, all the moments I doubted myself, all the things I didn’t know. And I told myself, “See, that’s the real you. Today was just a fluke.”

But something changed a few days later. One of my lecturers, a strict and no nonsense type, called me aside. I thought I was in trouble. But instead, he said, “I watched you closely. You didn’t just answer questions, you thought them through. That takes more than luck. That’s skill.”

That moment hit me. Because here was someone who had no reason to lie to me. Someone who had seen many students over the years and could tell the difference between a lucky guess and a well thought out answer. His words were simple, but they gave me permission to finally believe in myself a little.

Overcoming imposter syndrome wasn’t instant. It’s not something you snap out of. But I began to do something different. I started keeping track of my wins. Not just the big ones, but the small victories. Finishing a tough assignment. Helping someone understand a topic. Answering a difficult question in class. I wrote them down. I reminded myself that success doesn’t always look like perfection. Sometimes, it’s showing up when you’re scared. Sometimes, it’s doing your best even when you don’t feel ready.

I also started opening up to people about it. And to my surprise, I wasn’t alone. People I thought had it all figured out were struggling with the same thing. Some of the most intelligent people I knew were also questioning themselves. That alone was healing.

Now, when I achieve something, that voice still comes sometimes. It whispers, “Are you sure you deserve this?” But now, I talk back. I remind myself of the work I’ve done, the growth I’ve experienced, and the moments I stepped up even when I felt unqualified. And most of all, I remind myself that you don’t have to be perfect to deserve good things. You just have to be real, be willing, and keep growing.

So yes, I’ve felt like an imposter before. More than once. But I’ve learned not to let that feeling define me. It can visit, but it won’t take up residence in my mind. And if you’ve ever felt that way, know that you’re not crazy, you’re not ungrateful, and you’re definitely not alone. You’re just growing into someone bigger than you thought you could be, and that can feel scary at first.

But trust me, you deserve to be where you are. You’re not faking it. You’re becoming.

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