Dancing With Imposter Syndrome

What is imposter syndrome?

At its simplest, imposter syndrome is the internal experience of doubting your competence or worthiness despite evidence that you are capable, skilled, and qualified. It often comes with a sense that you have fooled others into believing in you, and at any moment you will be found out.

But imposter syndrome is rarely just about competence. It is about vulnerability, safety, belonging, and voice. It is about whether you feel secure enough to be seen, whether you believe what you have to share matters, and whether you trust that your presence has a place.

The Inner Voices We Hear

Imposter syndrome often speaks through the inner critic: Who am I to speak when there are so many others more qualified? Who am I to make art when there are so many artists? Who am I to try when I could fail?

Sometimes these voices are protective. Their message is, If I can keep you away from the edge, I can keep you safe from rejection. They may not always be kind, but they are often trying to shield us from risk.

Is It Really Imposter Syndrome?

When I hear that voice rise up, I have learned to pause and ask myself a different question: Is this really imposter syndrome, or is it something else asking for my attention?

• Is this imposter syndrome, or is this the result of systemic bias or the quiet but powerful messages that tell people of color, LGBTQ+ folks, women and those with marginalized identities that their expertise must constantly be proven?

• Is this imposter syndrome, or is this unprocessed shame from childhood, whispering that I am not enough?

• Is this imposter syndrome, or is this an old rejection wound, reminding me of the sting of being left out?

• Is this imposter syndrome, or is this the echo of abandonment, still tugging at my nervous system for belonging?

  
  

When we broaden the lens, we begin to see that what gets labeled imposter syndrome is often a collection of systemic forces, inherited narratives, and tender old wounds. Naming them helps us move away from self-blame and toward compassion. Instead of forcing ourselves to just push through, we can tend to the roots.

When Imposter Syndrome Becomes a Guide

Even in my own life, imposter syndrome sometimes acts as a guide. When I feel that tightening and wonder, Am I ready? Am I qualified? I pause and check in.

I can go back to my training and to the years of study and experience that remind me I am not starting from nothing. I can lean on my resume and the evidence of what I have already done.

And if the feeling still lingers, I ask: Is this a place where I truly need more growth or support? Sometimes the answer is yes. I may need more practice, mentorship, or skill-building. Other times, the honest answer is no. I have done enough. I am ready. What I need is not more training but more trust.

This self-check turns imposter syndrome into a tool for integrity. It helps us discern whether the voice of doubt is signaling a genuine need for growth or simply echoing old fear. Either way, it becomes an opportunity to meet ourselves with honesty and care.

Learning to Stay With the Feeling

There have been many moments when I almost said no. Invitations to teach, to lead a training, to share what I know. Each time, the flutter of Who am I to do this? would rise. What I was really being asked was not to be perfectly confident. It was to tolerate the feeling, to pause and tend to it, and to anchor in the safety I have built through secure relationships and self-trust.

I felt it when I stepped into private practice after years of working for others. I feel it now as a mother when I walk my children through their theater auditions, steadying them, resourcing them, reminding them that nerves and doubts are not a verdict but part of being human.

The goal is not to erase the inner critic. It is to pause and ask: Is this true? Is it real? Do I want to listen? Is it protecting me? If so, what do I need? When we treat our doubt this way, we work with it instead of letting it run the show.

Standing at the Growth Edge

For me, imposter syndrome has shown up most clearly as I have built my practice. I moved from being told what to do, the classic teacher’s pet, into creating my own systems, sharing my own voice, and stepping into leadership. There is a trembling that comes with being visible, with naming myself as a guide or an expert, and with daring to take up space.

And yet that trembling is not proof that I am not ready. It is evidence that I am standing at a growth edge, a threshold where fear and courage mingle.

Reframing the Question

Instead of asking: Who am I to speak?What if we asked: Who am I not to?

Instead of thinking: What if I am not good enough?What if we wondered: Who might be waiting for this in the exact way only I can offer it?

Instead of treating the critic’s voice as a verdict, what if we treated it as an invitation to slow down, to get curious, and to tend to the parts of us that still long for safety and belonging?

An Invitation

Perhaps imposter syndrome is not proof that you are inadequate, but evidence that you are standing at your edge, that sacred place where growth, courage, and authenticity meet.

If you hear the voice rising in you, pause. Ask what it is really saying. And then, when you are ready, step forward. Not because you have silenced the doubt completely, but because your voice, your presence, your art, and your heart truly matter.