Ever found yourself in a room full of brilliant minds, thinking, “If only they knew I’m just winging it”? While others discuss big theories or their latest successful projects, you’re silently worrying that someone will point at you and say, “You don’t belong here.” You feel like a fraud, convinced that your achievements are due to luck rather than ability. Sound familiar? If so, welcome to the club. You’re in good company with many high-achieving individuals here in Edinburgh. And if you don’t feel this way, congratulations—you’re among the rare few who have started their academic journey without grappling with impostor syndrome. Impostor syndrome is that nagging feeling that you’re a fraud, and that any moment, people are going to figure it out. Psychologists Clance & Imes (1978) described it as an “internal experience of intellectual phoniness.” In other words, you doubt your own abilities and feel like you don’t deserve your accomplishments. You downplay your success, convinced that others overestimate you. Researchers even link it to anxiety and depressive thoughts. Impostor syndrome is actually very common, especially in high-achieving places like Edinburgh. Gaining admission means you’ve already proven yourself academically, but when you’re surrounded by equally accomplished peers—from undergraduates to professors—it’s easy to feel like you don’t quite measure up. The intense competition for grades, publications, and jobs often makes it tempting to compare yourself to others, which only fuels those feelings of inadequacy. Impostor syndrome is something I have also experienced throughout my PhD journey. In the beginning, this thought of “How did I get here? There must have been a mistake somehow” only got worse. Everyone I met here was warm, welcoming, and incredibly accomplished. It is a great pleasure to work with these brilliant individuals, but it also made me question whether I truly belong among them. The need to keep up and live up to others’ expectations can feel like running on an endless treadmill sometimes. Two years into my PhD, I realized something important: impostor syndrome isn’t really about me. This became clear when I was getting ready for my first tutorial teaching session. I put in a bit of effort to look the part—professional enough that the students wouldn’t call me out. I threw on a dark-colored polo shirt and some silver-framed glasses, hoping they would help me look a bit more confident. But as I stood in front of the class, I noticed a lot of nervous faces staring back. Raised eyebrows, tight lips—it was as if they were holding back a ton of unasked questions. It struck me that the students might also feel unsure, just as I did. But only I know how talented and eager the students are, and I was the one to be lucky to have them listen to what I had to say. I soon realized that it was not about me looking clever or saying the smart things to make me look less of an impostor; it was about the students who had graciously come to learn. The moment I stopped focusing on my own insecurities and started thinking about how I could support them, impostor syndrome faded into the background. When we feel like impostors, as I did, our natural reaction is to look inward. We focus on our appearance, things we say, and all the ways we think we don’t measure up. But this inward thinking only makes things worse. I’ve learned that having the mentality of looking outward, toward others, can make all the difference. Here’s how it can help with impostor syndrome. Knowing that everyone might feel like an “impostor” Looking outward means understanding others’ experience with impostor syndrome. It helps to recognise that everyone—even the most confident-seeming people, may also feel like impostors. Impostor syndrome doesn’t discriminate; it affects people at all levels of achievement, whether they are undergraduates, postgraduates, PhD students, or even professors. And you’re not alone in feeling this way, and those feelings of inadequacy aren’t a reflection of your abilities but a shared experience among high achievers. Helping out “impostors” around us Looking outward also means paying attention to others instead of fixating on ourselves. Engage with people around us, be present in the moment with others, or simply help people around us feel comfortable. By shifting the focus from “What’s wrong with me?” to “How can I contribute and make a difference?” you shift the mental focus away from your immediate impostor feelings and break the constant self-evaluation that fuels impostor syndrome. When you stop asking, “What’s wrong with me?” and start asking, “How can I contribute and make a difference?” you take the focus off self-doubt. The mental energy you spend questioning your own worth can be redirected to something far more positive: making an impact. This outward focus can be contagious. It encourages people around us to feel more comfortable and authentic in being themselves. It allows everyone to be in the moment and meaningfully engaged in the learning experience, making an ‘impostor-friendly’ learning environment for folks around us. Reference: Clance, P. R., & Imes, S. A. (1978). The imposter phenomenon in high achieving women: Dynamics and therapeutic intervention. Psychotherapy: Theory, Research & Practice, 15(3), 241–247. https://doi.org/10.1037/h0086006
Will Zhang
