You don't have to be perfect to be successful!

You don't have to be perfect to be successful.

"When are you planning to submit that novel to an agent?" I asked my friend Allie. 

She shrugged noncommittally, "I'm still revising. I just want it to be perfect."

She's written a novel a year for nearly a decade, but she's never made any effort to get published. She tells me that she writes "for fun," but I know from passing conversations that she'd like to see her books in print. She doesn't consider herself a "real writer" because, in her mind, some folks are born with a quill in hand, penning eloquent prose before they're walking. She has to work at it.

People who struggle with impostorism have a perception problem. They don't see their own fears and doubts and efforts reflected in the personas of their heroes. On some rational level, Allie knows that John Steinbeck and Amy Tan and Stephen King all honed their craft through trial and error in the same way that she has been doing for years. Logically, she knows that they suffered writer's block, that they all feared at least once in their lives never having another idea, that they all made typos. 

However, on a more functional level, she views them as having sprung to life with the makings of greatness already intact, like Aphrodite being borne on the waves already grown and glorious.

This isn't entirely unjust. We all do spring to life with the makings of greatness intact, but we all also have to work to bring that greatness to fruition. Allie isn't afraid of hard work, but she is afraid that her hard work will be judged lacking in merit. That's a common symptom of impostor syndrome. 

Allie's novel will never be perfect because Allie isn't perfect. In fact, by continuously revising it, she may be making matters worse, like picking at a scab. But the endless process of double- and triple-checking every word and sentence serves a sinister purpose. It delays judgment. Allie believes once the novel is submitted, someone will definitely answer her question: "Am I a real writer?" She fears that answer, and so she is avoiding it.

Here's another funny thing about impostorism. Allie writes at least three hours a day. She goes to writing workshops. She attends to every word with painstaking detail. But all of the work that she puts into her writing confirms in her mind that she is not a real writer. Because a real writer would sit down and words would flow from her pen without any effort. 

Impostorism has that effect on people. They perceive others as perfect and themselves as less than. All of their efforts to excel, only remind them that others don't have to make the same efforts, but that's simply false logic.

Picture someone in your desired field who seems the model of professionalism: the perfect chef, the perfect sale representative, the perfect therapist, the perfect teacher. 

First, remind yourself that that person is not perfect. They're good, maybe even the best, but they're not perfect.

Next, remind yourself that they only achieved their skills and knowledge through hard work and practice. Through effort, just like you.

Finally, remind yourself that delaying judgment also delays gratification. Using perfection as an excuse to avoid taking a healthy risk will leave you unsatisfied and unfulfilled. 

You're not perfect, but that's okay. You don't have to be perfect to be successful. 

Dr. Eileen Wynne, PhD

References:

Alexander, J., & Sakulku, J. (2011). The Impostor Phenomenon. International Journal of Behavioral Science, 6, 73-92.

Weir, K. (2013). Feel like a fraud? GradPsych, 11, 24-27.

See yourself through someone else's eyes

Confiding her fears and doubts about her new internship wasn’t easy for my young friend Sarah. Because she feels like an impostor, she has a strong compulsion to hide her fears. After all, confident people who know what they’re doing aren’t afraid of anything, right? Admitting her insecurities would tip everyone off to her fraud.

Of course we know that’s not true. Self-assured, competent people are plagued by the same fears and doubts as everyone else; they just don’t allow those fears and doubts to halt their growth. They accept mistakes as a part of their development, welcoming errors as an opportunity to begin again more intelligently, as Henry Ford once said.

Confessing her fears was Sarah’s first step towards overcoming the limitations imposed by what psychologists refer to as impostor phenomenon. She bravely faced her fear of judgment and made room for the possibility that maybe what she was feeling could be simultaneously normal and irrational. Normal in the sense that an estimated 70% of the population experience impostorism at least once in their lives; irrational in the sense that her reasoning skills, her ability to accurately judge her own value, has been overcome by baseless self-doubt.

I have a strong suspicion that Sarah was awaiting confirmation that the advertising firm had goofed in their records of interviewees. However, by getting her fears out in the open, she was able to face the fact that maybe she was misjudging her future employers’ competence. After all, they didn’t become successful by haphazard hiring practices. 

It’s old hat now to say that the first step towards solving a problem is admitting you have one, but there’s a reason we’ve clung to the saying. It’s true. By sharing her fears, Sarah was able to begin playing with the possibility that they are unfounded, that the problem that she needs to overcome isn’t a lack of intellect or skill, but a burden of self-doubt, that the only person she’s fooling is herself.

That’s the problem with impostorism. The fact is, you got where you are because of your talents and your skills, your efforts and your perseverance. But impostorism feeds you a line about luck and lies. 

Your GPA isn’t a product of a professor’s generosity. Maybe we should give up that old idiom, “My teacher gave me an A.” In fact, in nearly every case that a student receives a high score on a test, it is the totally predictable result of the student learning the material. 

Your boss didn’t hire you based on false pretenses. You earned a degree. You gained experiences. You built a portfolio. 

You did that. You should be proud. While it’s a necessary part of growth to acknowledge your mistakes and weaknesses, it’s equally important to acknowledge your victories and accomplishments. 

If you’re feeling like a fraud, like you just lucked up when you got that promotion or passed that test, try sharing your fears with someone whose opinion you value. Don’t keep it to yourself. Let others help you see yourself the way that they do. It’s not a cure for the impostor blues, but it’s a step in the right direction.

Eileen Wynne, PhD.

References:

Alexander, J., & Sakulku, J. (2011). The Impostor Phenomenon. International Journal of Behavioral Science, 6, 73-92.

Cokley, K., McClain, S., Enciso, A. and Martinez, M. (2013), An Examination of the Impact of Minority Status Stress and Impostor Feelings on the Mental Health of Diverse Ethnic Minority College Students. Jnl Multicult Counseling & Dev, 41: 82–95. doi: 10.1002/j.2161-1912.2013.00029.x

Weir, K. (2013). Feel like a fraud? GradPsych, 11, 24-27.

The impostor's lament

Are high achievers only
fooling themselves?

“I don’t deserve to be here,” Sarah said, fidgeting with the corner of her blouse. 

A talented student with numerous academic accolades under her belt, Sarah had recently interviewed with a successful advertising firm. Though she still had two more classes to complete, the firm was eager to take her on as a paid intern to prepare her for a job upon her graduation the following semester. 

You might expect that Sarah would be brimming over with joy at the prospect, but instead, she felt that she had somehow conned the firm into offering her the position. This, in turn, caused her to doubt her ability to perform the responsibilities that came with her new role. Rather than experiencing the pride of accomplishment, Sarah was experiencing anxiety.

More specifically, she was feeling the pain of a very common phenomenon known as impostor syndrome. Though impostor syndrome isn’t listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as an official diagnosis, its effects are felt by most people at some point in their lives. 

Think about a time when you experienced success. Now consider the following thoughts. 

• I just got lucky.
• I don’t belong here.
• Once they realize I don’t know what I’m doing, they’ll get rid of me.
• I’m not as smart/talented/skilled as they think I am.
• It won’t be long before they figure out I’m a fraud.

Do any look familiar to you? If so, you’ve felt the painful doubts created by the impostor phenomenon.

The irony of impostor syndrome is that high achievers tend to be the most susceptible to it. I see it often in students who have worked diligently, spending hours in studious labor, and in adults who have excelled at their chosen profession through hard work and high expectations. As we transition into new careers or life experiences, we're particularly vulnerable to these feelings of not belonging, of fraudulence. 

While research has shown women and minorities top the charts for these feelings of “passing themselves off” rather than authentically achieving, the phenomenon can be said to be a natural by-product of a society that puts perhaps too much pressure on its individuals to succeed at all costs. 

In schools and homes, we stress to our children the need to achieve, and it may be that the message is received and processed in ways that we don’t anticipate. It may be that we’re sending our children the message that the love, attention, and respect that they crave must be won through constant showmanship. What a heart-breaking idea.

During the next few weeks, I’d like to talk with you about overcoming some of the habits and mindsets that lead to this sense of being an impostor because I suspect that both you and Sarah have something to offer the world that is not only good enough but is much needed.

Dr. Eileen Wynne

References:

Alexander, J., & Sakulku, J. (2011). The Impostor Phenomenon. International Journal of Behavioral Science, 6, 73-92.

Cokley, K., McClain, S., Enciso, A. and Martinez, M. (2013), An Examination of the Impact of Minority Status Stress and Impostor Feelings on the Mental Health of Diverse Ethnic Minority College Students. Jnl Multicult Counseling & Dev, 41: 82–95. doi: 10.1002/j.2161-1912.2013.00029.x

Am I grown up yet?

Am I grown up yet?

This may seem like a funny question to ask. Surely, you must know if you’re grown up, right? Yet I find that’s often the very question that has my patients stumped and stressed out.

In the past, sociologists established pretty hard and fast rules about what makes someone an adult: finishing your education, getting married, having children among them. But do the same rules still apply as our timetables shift ever outward? Many of my young patients must believe they do or they wouldn’t be so worried about where they fall on the scales of adulthood.

It’s a tough road that our emerging adults face. While society has changed rapidly during the past few decades, our expectations have not changed as quickly. Many parents still worry when their children reach thirty and have no spouse or “grownup” job to show for it. Adult children feel the weight of their parents’ stress and wonder if they’ve somehow failed at being a grown up.

Though out-dated assumptions still inform these young adults, the world of possibilities is vastly different than it once was. Technology has created new career opportunities. Changing sexual mores have made alternative relationships more predominant. An ever-shrinking world has broadened their horizons.

Is it any wonder that they’d feel conflicted?

Should I play it safe and follow in my parents’ footsteps? Choose a secure job with benefits now and stick with it through retirement? Or should I experiment with different careers? Or strike out on my own as an entrepreneur?

Should I be on the lookout for a husband or wife? Am I ready to take the plunge? Or should I focus on figuring out who I am first?

Maybe it’s time we re-think what defines an adult. Marriage, parenting, career paths, these are the trappings of particular lifestyle choices, not necessarily eternal standards of adulthood.  

Adults are people who accept responsibility for their decisions. They may not know where they’re going, but they’re capable of weighing many options. They may not own a home, but they feel at home in their own skin and in the world. They may turn to their mentors for guidance, but they make decisions independently.

Adulthood is not a static thing. It is a process. It is the lengthiest phase of our life, and it can be the most rewarding phase, in particular if we give young adults the opportunity to savor it, to experiment with it, and to learn from it.

If you are a young person struggling with the new decisions before you and unsure of how to proceed, consider seeking guidance and insight from a therapist. One hallmark of maturity is knowing when to ask for help. As a therapist and life coach, I am available to listen and to offer an objective perspective as well as much needed support. Let's talk one-on-one about how my coaching and therapy practice can serve you. I can be reached at my Uptown New Orleans office at 504-481-8997.

Dr. Eileen Wynne, PhD

Why 30 doesn't have to be a deadline

Does the approach of 30 mean that opportunity is slipping away?
Certainly not. 

If you’re feeling the pressure of the 30 year deadline, you’re not alone. That looming date has long marked the whittling away of life’s options. Certainly in times past, this anxiety was justified. In 1900, the life expectancy of the average American was 48, making 30 a ripe old age. 

But let’s put things into perspective. Today’s average life expectancy is nearly double what it was at the turn of the last century. Maybe it’s time to consider pushing the timetable back a little bit to give emerging adults an opportunity to savor this long and winding life. 

It’s true that in 1960, 77 percent of American women and 65 percent of American men had reached the five milestones of adulthood marked by sociologists - completing school, leaving home, becoming financially independent, marrying and having a child. However, a lot has changed in the United States since then. We know much more than we did.

For one thing, we’ve learned a lot about the way that human brains develop as we age. Once upon a time, we were fairly certain that brains “aged out” in our teen years, but tests by neurologists in the 1990s showed that wasn’t the case. On the contrary, they indicated that the brain continues to change, refining its processes, becoming better and better at what it does, for much longer than we originally thought. The prefrontal part of the brain - that part of the brain that lets you consider your own thoughts, make decisions, and set goals - is still evolving in the mid-twenties, which might explain why you’re feeling ambivalent about your future if the big 3-0 is on your horizon. 

Albert Einstein once said, “A person who has not made his great contribution to science before the age of 30 will never do so.” There’s no doubt about Einstein’s genius, but even he made mistakes. The average age of Nobel Laureates today is between 45 and 60, and the most inspired work of physicists happens in their forties. 

What does this all mean for you? It means you have time. Your life expectancy is luxuriously long compared to your ancestors. You marvelous brain is still still evolving, stretching to reach its potential. The rush towards adulthood can become a more meaningful journey. The pressures to marry, choose a lifelong career, bear children, accomplish greatness - they can all wait a little longer for you.

If you're an emerging adult feeling the pressure of decisions that lie before you, it may be that you would benefit from counsel. As a therapist and life coach, I am available to listen and to offer an objective perspective as well as much needed support. Let's talk one-on-one about how my coaching and therapy practice can serve you. I can be reached at my Uptown New Orleans office at 504-481-8997.

Dr. Eileen Wynne, PhD