When I was at Chicago Booth, I was a LAUNCH mentor for incoming students for several years. It was such a pleasure meeting the new classes. These cohorts were filled with the brightest, most intelligent people I have ever found myself surrounded by.
Being a software engineer by trade, I felt a bit out of my depth. Those successful in the major industries like finance and consulting were the ones who really belonged in business school.
However, every time I expressed a sentiment like this, I was greeted with empathy. Though everyone at the university was successful in their own right, there was a common feeling among my peers around imposter syndrome.
As a LAUNCH mentor, I did a brief survey of the incoming students, and found that a great portion of people also felt out of their depth. They felt imposter syndrome. Like the admissions office made a mistake, and that they weren’t as qualified as their new peers. I advised these new students that there’s no reason to feel imposter syndrome, since everyone else was feeling it too. However, it was much easier said than done.
Recognizing that you do belong and your unique perspective is valuable to the community is a hard lesson to learn. It is still hard for me to internalize, even though I recognize it as the truth. I often have to remind myself that I do belong, that I am smart enough, and can learn with the best of them.
What they don’t teach you in business school: everyone is just faking it until they make it.
Actually, what they don’t teach you in life: everyone is just faking it until they make it.
Those people that seem to have it all together may be struggling as much as you are. Though it may masquerade as confidence, it’s been my experience that people who seem to know it all are hoping not to be found out as frauds.
We all have to convince ourselves that we are good enough at our jobs, or in our relationships, or in our lives. It seems to be a common human experience.
The only antidote I have found to this feeling of imposter syndrome is taking action, being vulnerable, and risking looking stupid.
I felt like a switch flipped about halfway through my studies. Instead of feeling intimidated out of fear of saying the wrong thing, I found myself much more curious. I wanted to understand how things worked, not just show what I already knew. Who cared if I was found out as a fraud, my goal was to learn.
Our unique, vulnerable, personal perspectives are often more important than qualifications. And personally, I would rather work with curious people than those who try to prove their knowledge.
What can you do the next time you feel a sense of imposter syndrome?
Take a risk. Be vulnerable. Ask a dumb question. Feel confident telling people you haven’t heard of something. Give them an opportunity to share their knowledge with you.
We worry so much about how we will be perceived that we miss out on opportunities to learn. Learning by asking about others’ passions is one of the great joys of this world.
When you are vulnerable, you learn a lot more than you thought was possible, you meet more people than you anticipated, and your nagging feeling of imposter syndrome will have no choice but to disappear into the ether.
I hope I have the courage to continue asking dumb questions, to fumble my words, and to constantly be learning. And I hope you do too.
Until next Tuesday,
Cory