Lately, I have been reflecting on the idea of “imposter syndrome” and felt like writing this piece. “Imposter syndrome” is the name society has given to a set of feelings that many of us, especially those who are driven, high-achievers, and seen by the world as relatively “doing well/being successful at life”, can relate to. It is that nagging self-doubt that arises occasionally, the fear of being "found out," and/or the belief that our successes are primarily the result of luck or timing and that they can all come down crashing if those two uncontrollable factors disappear.
I have been reflecting on this because of conversations with my 11-year-old daughter. I've started to wonder: Should we see these feelings as signs of imposter syndrome, or could they sometimes be a healthy dose of humble realism? How can we find the balance?
The other day, my daughter came to me feeling anxious about an upcoming school presentation. "Mom," she said, "I don't think I can do this. What if I mess up and everyone realises I'm no good?"
Now I know my daughter is a good writer, and her Canva presentation-making skills are way above her grade and age level—in my view, at least. She has received accolades for her writing and presentation from her teachers, friends, and family. She knows that the world sees these attributes as her strengths, and they have rewarded her for success in these areas. But her comment reminded me of that all-too-familiar narrative of self-doubt.
As Maithili (my daughter) and I talked it through, I realised her concerns weren't from believing she was a fraud (phew!). She did not think she was an imposter and did not have the fear that she was faking it and that, somehow, her schoolmates would find out she was no good. Instead, her comment stemmed from a desire to be as “amazing” as they expect her to be and to do more than what she did last time - because she cares about what the world thinks of her, especially around these two skills that she uses to define her identity (FYI: she wants to be a best-selling author when she grows up).
This conversation got me thinking about the critical differences between imposter syndrome and humble realism and articulating what I need to do as a parent to help her. Here are some of my realisations inspired by research on this topic and a lot of self-reflection :)
How can I help her develop the skills for more accurate self-assessment? I want her to have an accurate and realistic understanding of her competence. Not one that inflates reality due to my self-esteem-boosting motherly instinct nor one that deflates by an improvement-focused instinct. What worked with her was my providing her with examples of both upward and downward comparisons. I spoke about how great writers all started somewhere (upward comparisons: referring to stories of grit and perseverance from autobiographies). I also compared her to a range of others (a downward comparison to myself as a kid) and national average numbers (language skill scores from her latest English tests where she was in the 80% percentile). It allowed her to see that writing and presentation skills are on a distribution, and that she falls higher than average on that distribution for her age. It helped her to not have a skewed self-assessment, where she underestimates her abilities despite evidence to the contrary in this case.
How can I help her develop a more healthy relationship with failure? I want her to see attempting and showing up in the world as an achievement in itself and to view failure and negative feedback as opportunities to learn and grow. I reminded her that her presentation and script were an expression of who she is, and even if the world thought of it as sub-optimal, it was not a personal indictment of her worth. I helped her imagine the worst that could happen, given she was so well-prepared, and she soon realised with some initial discomfort that whatever she did in this act tomorrow would not ever be a life-changing catastrophic failure. Finally, I reminded her of the times she had excelled before and that it was evidence that she had the capacity to do this.
How can I help her manage the fear and anxiety better? I reminded her about my fear and anxiety when I was preparing to give my TEDx talk, and she was there for all my practice runs and saw me go through my script several times. She remembered that even mamma could feel anxious, and that normalised it for her. She stopped being hard on herself for fearing public speaking and instead realised that preparation was the best way to manage her anxiety. She immediately started making note cards, practising her presentation in her room, and recording herself. Yay!
The most immense happiness came after this conversation and a bit more practice, she said…
“Mamma, I don’t have to be perfect. I need to show up and do my best. It's okay if I am a bit nervous. I think I will go and practice one more time, and then I will be good. As I grow up, I am sure I will get better. I love writing and know I want to be a best-selling author.”
What I heard in those words was:
Perfectionism is never the goal: Showing up and doing your personal best- after stretching yourself through practice - is more important than nailing it.
Normalizing doubt and fear: Like many others, I feel anxious and nervous, and it is okay.
Practice makes me better: I can always work a little hard to improve by practising.
I believe in growth. Doing this will make me better, and with time, I will get closer to my goal.
My definition of success is that I will get better in my own way and towards my goals—as long as the goals align with things I find fulfilling and believe to be my strengths.
As a parent, my goal in this conversation was to help Maithili cultivate humble realism - a balanced self-perception that allows room for confidence and growth. And as I reflect on my journey, I realise that this is a lesson we can all benefit from. By embracing humble realism and reframing our self-doubts as opportunities for learning, we open ourselves up to our fullest potential and inspire others to do the same. True confidence comes not from believing we have all the answers but from trusting in our ability to navigate challenges with curiosity, effort, and self-compassion.
Another great post. Really insightful, thank you.