There’s a quiet, persistent voice that often echoes in the background of our lives—a voice that questions, doubts, and whispers, “Are you really enough?” For me, this voice has shown up in unexpected moments: while sitting across from a client, even as they express gratitude for the space I hold; in the stillness of my mornings, in my marriage—a space I dreamed of, yet where I sometimes feel vulnerable; and in fleeting thoughts as I navigate the beautiful, messy journey of motherhood.
This voice has a name: imposter syndrome.
What Is Imposter Syndrome?
Imposter syndrome is the internal experience of doubting your abilities, feeling like a fraud, and fearing that at any moment, someone will “find you out.” It doesn’t matter how much evidence there is to the contrary—degrees, certifications, positive feedback, personal growth. It’s the nagging belief that your successes are due to luck, timing, or external factors rather than your own competence or worthiness.
Imposter syndrome isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it hides beneath the surface of our accomplishments, subtly eroding the joy we deserve to feel. It creeps in after we’ve done something meaningful, convincing us that we don’t belong in the rooms we’ve worked hard to enter, that we’re somehow “pretending” at the very things we’re most passionate about.
For me, no amount of training, certifications, or licenses has been able to silence that voice in one grand, sweeping gesture. But amidst the internal dialogue—between professional confidence and self-doubt—I’ve discovered something transformative: the radical, freeing choice to turn towards love.
Choosing Love in the Face of Doubt
Love isn’t always the easy choice. It asks us to soften when we feel like hardening, to trust when fear begs us to retreat, and to celebrate ourselves when humility feels like the safer mask. But what I’ve learned is that choosing love, especially when the odds feel stacked against you, is not a weakness. It’s the purest form of strength.
Choosing love doesn’t mean ignoring imposter syndrome. It means acknowledging its presence without letting it define who we are. It’s about the small, daily acts of turning towards connection, authenticity, and self-compassion—even when doubt lingers. Love becomes both the anchor and the sail, grounding us while propelling us forward as we build the lives and dreams we’ve dared to imagine.
How I Have Worked with My Own “Imposter”
Over the past year, imposter syndrome has shown up more intensely in my life, and it hasn’t eased much in the new year. But as I’ve committed to being kinder and more patient with myself, I’ve found a few practices that help me navigate these feelings:
1. Journaling with Radical Honesty:
I write without judgment, letting the doubt spill onto the page. Often, seeing the words written down helps me separate the facts from the fears. It’s where I find patterns—proof that even in my hardest moments, I always return to love.
2. Grounding Through Connection:
When imposter syndrome makes me feel isolated, I intentionally reach out—to my partner, my friends, or even in quiet reflection with myself. Sharing my fears out loud often dissolves the shame wrapped around them.
3. Affirmations Rooted in Truth:
I don’t force myself to believe affirmations that don’t feel authentic. Instead, I find simple truths like:
“I am learning and growing.”
“I am allowed to be proud of my work.”
“I am exactly where I need to be.”
These gentle reminders anchor me when my mind feels unsteady.
4. Reframing the Narrative:
Instead of asking, “Am I good enough?” I shift the question to, “How can I show up with love today?”
This shift takes the focus off perfection and brings it back to intention.
An Invitation for You
I feel now, more than ever, in the current state of our country, our world, and within ourselves, that this choice—**to turn towards love—**is critical. I close my eyes and imagine a world where we all choose love as our guiding force, for answers, for guidance, for solace. In that world, I don’t think we’d ever feel like imposters. We’d simply be human—beautifully imperfect and wholly deserving of the space we occupy.
As I write this, I’m filled with a love that is worth sharing. I am not a perfect therapist. I am not a perfect partner or mother. But I am perfectly placed in this world, in this life, for a reason.
Last year, I wrote:
“The day is always great; it’s just the perspective we choose that can cloud it or enhance it.”
So, in the midst of a very uncertain time, I choose to turn towards love. And I invite you to come with me. It’s hard. It’s scary. But it’s also the most fulfilling journey we can take.
A Reflection for You:
Take a moment—just a breath—and ask yourself:
• When was the last time I felt like an imposter? How can I speak love to this wounded part?
• What helped me reconnect with my worth?
• Where can I choose love today, even in small ways?
Write it down. Speak it out loud. Or simply sit with it. Whatever feels right.
Whether these words resonate with you or your parts, may you know you are love, you are loved, and you always will be.
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