The Upside of Impostor Syndrome
Did I Sound Like I Knew What I Was Doing?
I was on vacation, in the car with my wife, when my phone rang.
New role. New scope. New everything. A few months in, still finding my footing, and the person on the other end needed answers I wasn't sure I had.
I took the call anyway.
My wife sat next to me the whole time. Silent. She heard every word — the pauses, the hedges, the places I reached for confidence I didn't quite feel.
When I hung up, I turned to her and asked the only question that mattered to me right then: "Did I sound like I knew what I was doing?"
That question named something I'd battled my whole career. Not doubt in general. A specific fear of being wrong. Perfectionism, if I'm honest about it — the belief that if I couldn't be certain, I shouldn't speak at all.
I've learned a few ways to face that fear down over the years. I don't use all of them every time. I reach for whichever one the moment calls for.
That day in the car, I reached for three.
Asking my wife the question was me admitting the feeling instead of burying it. I said the quiet part out loud instead of pretending the call went fine.
No one on that call flagged my inexperience. No one questioned whether I belonged there. The doubt wasn't coming from outside — it was coming from expectations I'd set for myself, higher than anyone else was holding me to. Seeing that gap, between what was true and what I was afraid was true, took most of the fear out of it.
And somewhere in there I landed on a line I still repeat to the leaders I coach: no one can be perfect. Everyone can strive for excellence. Those are not the same standard, and only one of them is survivable.
Other days call for different ones.
High achievers are the ones most likely to feel like frauds — and every organization wants high achievers. Which means every organization has a responsibility most don't take seriously: mentorship. Someone ahead of you, willing to guide you through it.
I didn't have that early in my career. I wish I had.
I have it now. My boss names his own uncertainty before he asks about mine. That's not a small thing. When someone above you says he doesn't have it figured out, it makes room for you to say the same.
I've also found that being the mentor does something the other ways don't. There's a kind of freedom in helping someone else through the same fear you once carried alone.
If you're chasing something worth doing, some version of this fear is coming for you too.
Next time the doubt shows up, ask which one you need:
Say the fear out loud instead of hiding it
Separate what's true from what you're afraid is true
Trade perfect for excellent
Find someone ahead of you who'll go first
Be that person for someone else