How COVID Helped Me Overcome Imposter Syndrome
Imposter syndrome and workaholics, deconstructed
It feels treasonous to say that the deadly COVID pandemic, which ruined businesses and ended lives, helped me; but in a way, it did.
Prior to lockdown, I had been the news editor of a Christian media outlet, with several projects under way. I published five to eight long-form articles a week, had finished the final edits of my first children’s book, and had plans to further expand my portfolio. To the world, it looked like I had everything going for me. But inside, I felt like nothing more than a phony — as if my time was running up, and sooner or later everyone would realize how stupid I really was.
Every “like,” every comment, every clap on the back, “good job,” or “keep up the good work” felt like a hot iron at my back. If one article was good, then the next had to be great. And if that article failed, I felt the need to publish two more in its place. Failure wasn’t an option, but each success felt like a lie I had to overcome.
Then, the world was put under lockdown, forcing everyone into a quarantine unlike anything we had seen in our lifetime. And I was suddenly out of a job.
Many creatives suffer with imposter syndrome, an issue described as intense insecurity and doubt over one’s work and achievements. It can happen to anyone, whether they have “made it big,” like Neil Gaiman, or are still at the beginning stages of their career, like me. But although it is common, it still poses a threat. If left uncontrolled, this issue can negatively affect one’s mental health and work performance, as it often coincides with mental health disorders like anxiety and depression.
According to the American Psychological Association (APA), imposter syndrome comes in large part due to a pressure to achieve, which is why it is most common in perfectionists, high-achievers and those from demanding households. It also disproportionately affects those of minority race backgrounds, according to the APA and the US National Library of Medicine.
For people suffering with the issue, workplace success feels like a necessity for life. This could be due to a pressure to financially support others, overcome stereotypes or fulfill a need placed upon them by others in their community.
I first felt imposter syndrome in middle school, after being accepted into advanced placement and college-bound courses. This promotion had not come out of nowhere, but it was unique for a person in my situation. For years prior, I had attended speech therapy, adaptive P.E., and other helping classes. But with the help of many great teachers and a desire to better myself, I had surpassed every goal laid before me and was soon being prepped for college.
This was a terrifying success for me. On the one hand, I was excited. I had done something few others in my situation could ever hope to accomplish. But I had also spent years in classrooms with teachers and students who had bullied me, called me stupid, and told me I would never amount to anything. And when I finally sat in those AP and Honors classes, I couldn’t help but think, “I don’t belong here.”
I knew that my position in those classes was relegated to how hard I worked and knew that I had to earn every second of class time I got. If I succeeded, it would be a major success. But if I failed, no one would be surprised.
The APA claims that the best way to overcome imposter syndrome is to speak to mentors and therapists, recognize your achievements, and reframe your mindset. But overcoming years of work-class insecurities is easier said than done, especially since those suffering with the issue often doubt that anyone else can relate. The real first step is speaking about one’s personal experience and letting people know they are not alone.
Despite all the terrible things that have happened since the start of the pandemic, one thing I learned was that failure is not as bad as I thought it was. I have spent years trying to prove my worth through my work, and fearing any failure that might arise from it. But when COVID hit, I could not find a job to save my life. I had no money, no work, no friends, no classes — no escape.
I submitted tons of poems, articles and essays to outlets that denied me outright. Each job application was rejected or ignored. An interviewer even laughed in my face. All of my worst fears came true. And yet, the world did not end.
I came to realize that I can fail (upwards of 30 times, to be exact), and still have value as a human being. It is not that rejection did not hurt, or that failure didn’t suck, but rather that the experience of these things made me realize that I was putting too much of my identity in what I do instead of who I am.
COVID was a wake-up call for many of us to not put too much stock into our work and achievements to the point that it encompasses our entire lives. Our insecurities will not dissipate because we get a promotion, nor will the world end if we miss a single deadline. But in tackling our inner demons head on, we can learn to develop healthier work-life habits and ease the stress of our daily lives.
So as more of us get back into offices and classrooms, let us remember to be mindful of our insecurities, achievements and mindsets. It can be easy to feel like a phony, and to say that your work isn’t good enough; but that’s not true. Each of us has the opportunity to succeed and fail without it reflecting our personal worth. And, if it gets bad enough, there’s always a support network waiting in the wings in the form of medical professionals, mentors and loved ones.
