Imposter Syndrome: The echo of systems we fight to survive
I have a Master’s degree, graduating just shy of President’s Honours (for the record, that 0.026 GPA point difference still burns). I am a licensed mental health care professional. I’ve spent most of my life agonized by a perfectionist streak that could be considered obsessive. My intuition is so finely tuned, I can read the energy of a room better than some might read a clock.
And still-
It took me nearly 39 years to come to the realization that I am autistic.
So, when I talk about imposter syndrome, let me be clear:
This is not self-doubt remedied by a relatable and well-filtered instagram reel or hyped affirmation. This is about being conditioned to distrust your innate humanity, genius, and power.
Masking your core self is akin to starring in your own reality show
A woman cautiously peeking through stage curtains, smiling nervously as she looks out at an unseen audience—symbolizing the pressure to perform and hide true emotions.
You’re on camera, acutely aware of being watched and critiqued. You’re also the one sitting in the corner, furiously editing re-writes to the script to be acceptable, palatable, and relatable. It’s a near ‘round the clock full-time job, inhabiting the characters it takes to be worthy of taking up space. And depending on how many roles you play in your professional, social, and personal spheres of life, we’re talking dozens of pages of script to memorize and tango to.
It’s hard to feel real when the world rewards you for disappearing, contorting, and censoring yourself.
My youngest had a hard day. She came home, ran to her room, and flopped on her bed. When I sat with her, she tearfully told me how exhausted she felt. The classroom was so loud she couldn’t hear herself think. She didn’t get the jokes her peers were cracking, but whenever she tried to ask for clarification, they’d move on to the next wisecrack. At recess, she hid herself away so no one would see her cry. She had a substitute teacher for French, which meant that the whole period was wonky and unpredictable.
An hour after she’d relayed her day to me, we ran into her classroom teacher at the (very bright, very noisy) grocery store.
“How ya feeling?” he cheerfully inquired.
“GREAT!” my daughter exclaimed without missing a beat.
Imposter syndrome (and masking) are not personal failings. They’re the result of being praised over and over for playing a role that doesn’t quite capture the whole of you, but for whom others benefit.
Neuronormative culture as ‘credible’
Neuronormativity: A narrow and dominant narrative that upholds neurotypical functioning (thinking, feeling, behaving, communicating) as the essential ideal, thereby rendering other neurotypes as less-than and deficient (Kapp et al., 2013).
Tone of voice, pace of speech, eye contact, body posture and movement, thought linearity, level of productivity… none of these things are innately equated with intelligence or value. However, in neuronormative culture, matching the ‘norm’ signals a person’s credibility and level of importance.
Academia and credentials, letters behind names, income levels and corner offices, all signal having made it. But don’t forget to be objective and cite your peer reviewed sources. Intuitive, experiential, and patterned ways of knowing mean nothing if they’re not backed by the still biased, oft-gatekept literature of academia.
Capitalistic culture as god
The ever-dangling carrot of the promise of optimization. The machine of productivity. The drive to be seen, ‘hearted,’ and followed. If you’re not producing, you’re falling behind.
What if you need a non-linear process? Or your processing speed is built to take it all in, in micro-detail, but in fits and starts? If you operate by tumbling into a focus tunnel for hours, feeling the sweet hum of dopamine while the rest of the world falls away, but then you need a recovery period of two days…? Fuggadabout it. (How ya like them echolalia apples? IYKYK). If this is you, you’re bound to hear the faintest whisper of the Imposter Syndrome gremlin as they insist “You don’t belong.”
Gender roles
Societal constructs of gender create tension between our various parts. And at any given time, whose to say which part should be leading? Prove competence, but don’t be high maintenance! Be emotionally nurturing, but watch the hysteria. Confidence is key, but not so much that you're arrogant. I mean, we’re familiar with the Barbie call to arms, yes? This.
Trauma ‘Guess Who’
At a more immediate level, families of origin shape and mold the people we learn to be to find our place, fit in, and in many cases, survive. We learn if we’re to be the pleasant peacekeeper, the perfectionist, mother hen, clown, or the black sheep. Maybe we’re the golden child or the shape-shifting chameleon. The internal family of characters within us today got us to where we are today. Including the Imposter.
Captured in a moment of hesitation and uncertainty, this woman reflects the quiet storm of imposter syndrome—the inner voice that says 'you're not enough,' even when you are.
Imposter syndrome isn’t a flaw—it’s a response to wounds. Wounds inflicted by cultural systems of oppression, capitalism, domination, White supremacy, patriarchy, and familial/ancestral trauma patterns.
Like all wounds, playing the imposter, believing that it’s all you are, speaks of survival.
But surviving isn’t the same as living.
You deserve to show up as all of who you are, not as one small part these systems trained you to be.
How to begin to face your Imposter Syndrome
Be curious! Rather than immediately dismissing that internal voice as unhelpful, consider getting to know it as a younger part of you.
Journal, paint, or otherwise create: ask your Imposter what it would do for you if it didn’t have to protect you?
Cultivate patience. It’s not about killing off any parts, but inviting them to be cared for by an older, wiser, more compassionate adult (ahem, you!)
Some further recommended reading
Unmasking Autism by Dr. Devon Price
No Bad Parts by Dr. Richard C. Schwartz
The Myth of Normal by Dr. Gabor Maté
Want more on neurodivergence, grief, and reclaiming your truth?
Follow @coreclaritytherapy on Instagram and bookmark www.coreclaritypsychotherapy.com/stilllearning
References
Kapp, S. K., Gillespie-Lynch, K., Sherman, L. E., & Hutman, T. (2013). Deficit, difference, or both? Autism and neurodiversity. Developmental Psychology, 49(1), 59–71. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0028353
This post is for educational and reflective purposes only and does not replace therapy or clinical consultation.