Many of us know the dreaded feeling of imposter syndrome. That inner voice that whispers, “You’re not really qualified to be here,” or “Sooner or later they’ll realise you don’t know what you are doing”.
It’s a common experience, especially when we’re doing something new or meaningful. It can flare up when you start a new job, enrol in a course, speak up in a meeting, launch a project, or become a parent for the first time. It doesn’t discriminate. In fact, some of the most capable, thoughtful people experience it regularly.
But what if imposter syndrome isn’t something we need to eliminate? What if, like anxiety, guilt or people pleasing, this feeling serves a purpose?
In a recent interview about her memoir, “A Different Kind of Power”, former New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern reflects on her experience with imposter syndrome. Despite being one of the most visible leaders in the world and the first elected world leader to give birth while in office, she shares that her self-doubt never truly went away. Rather than seeing it as a flaw, she shares the ways it shaped her leadership for the better.
She explains that the questioning voice inside her helped her stay grounded, seek out experts, collaborate more and avoid the kind of overconfidence that can come with unchecked power. “I didn’t want to walk into rooms thinking I was always right,” she says.
It’s a refreshing and real take on something many of us try to hide or fix. Rather than assuming self-doubt means we’re not good enough, maybe we can start to ask, what is this feeling trying to protect me from?
Where imposter syndrome comes from
While it’s not a formal diagnosis, imposter syndrome is a term that captures a common internal struggle – the sense that you’re faking competence or that your success is due to luck rather than skill. It can come with feelings of anxiety, perfectionism, overworking and a reluctance to accept (or believe) praise.
It generally has its roots in our early environments. Perhaps you grew up in a family or school system where achievement was highly valued or where love felt conditional on performance. Maybe you rarely saw people who looked or thought like you in positions of influence, which subtly reinforced the idea that you didn’t quite belong. Or maybe you’re simply someone who holds yourself to incredibly high standards and the cost of that is chronic self-questioning.
As we explored in our blog on the inner critic, these kinds of thoughts are usually trying to protect us. The critic says “Don’t mess up. Don’t get too confident. Stay ahead of the danger.” It’s a misguided attempt to keep us safe by keeping us small.
Our blog on people pleasing also ties in here. If your sense of self-worth has been shaped around keeping others happy, staying agreeable or avoiding conflict, it can be hard to believe that your success is deserved. You might downplay your achievements, avoid asking for what you need, or feel like you’re performing a role rather than truly inhabiting it.
Jacinda Ardern speaks to this struggle with striking honesty in her book. “My whole short life, I’d grappled with the idea that I was never quite good enough, that at any moment I would be caught short.” It’s a sentence that will ring true for many of us. And perhaps also a reminder that these kinds of thoughts aren’t a sign that something’s wrong with us. They’re part of being human. Even a human who happens to be a world leader.
How imposter syndrome can quietly help
Imposter syndrome can certainly be painful to deal with, there’s no denying that. But it also has a surprising side. It can keep us humble, motivated and open to growth.
Jacinda Ardern’s take is a powerful reminder of this. She frames her imposter feelings not as evidence of inadequacy, but as fuel for integrity. These feelings kept her from assuming she had all the answers. They made her more collaborative. They encouraged her to reflect deeply rather than react quickly.
And she’s not alone in feeling this way. She’s just unusually open about it.
“There are plenty of people who have this experience,” she told Sarah Ferguson on ABC’s 7.30 report. “There just happens to be very few who then share it or talk about it out loud.”
This is something we see in therapy too. The people who question themselves are often the ones who are willing to examine their impact, to listen, to grow. They may not always feel confident, but they’re usually conscientious, thoughtful and deeply committed to doing well by others. There’s a strength in that kind of self-awareness. Not the loud, chest-puffing kind of strength, but the quieter kind. The kind that leads to connection, not just competence.
Working with imposter thoughts
Here are some ways to approach imposter feelings with curiosity, compassion and perspective:
- Name what’s happening
Try saying to yourself, “ah, that’s my imposter voice talking. This tends to come up when I’m stretching myself.” - Get curious, not critical
Ask, “what is this voice trying to protect me from?” Sometimes there’s a real need hidden beneath the fear. Perhaps a need for support, reassurance or connection. - Bring in a compassionate counter-voice
What would a kind, steady friend say? Maybe something like, ”it makes sense you feel nervous. This really matters to you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t belong here.” - Watch for all-or-nothing thinking
You might be learning some things, while still having solid foundations in others. Both can be true. - Share your experience
Talking about imposter feelings with someone you trust can be powerful. Vulnerability has a way of making us feel more connected and less alone.
A few questions to sit with
- When do I tend to feel like an imposter? What’s going on around me at the time?
- What would it mean if I saw this self-doubt as a sign that I care, not that I’m failing?
- If I trusted that I didn’t have to prove myself constantly, how might I show up differently?
Imposter feelings can feel uncomfortable, but they often show up when we’re doing something brave, unfamiliar or meaningful. They don’t mean you’ve failed or don’t belong. More often, they’re a quiet sign that you care. So if doubt is along for the ride, you’re in good company. You belong. Even with doubt in your pocket.
