Imposter syndrome has been described as ‘a psychological phenomenon characterized by intense feelings of intellectual fraudulence’.[1] There are a plethora of resources describing the intricacies of this mindset in libraries and online, so I will not be spending anytime describing it. I think it is safe to say that everyone knows what it is. How we overcome it, is the interesting part.
What follows is not a technical tour de force on the intricacies of psychological strategies for overcoming mental health issues, but I will endeavour to describe the method I use and why I use it, to break through the mental challenges and burdens that we put ourselves through.
How I felt imposter syndrome
Before I began my master’s degree, I contacted the university and asked them if they were sure they wanted to give someone like me a place on the course. I did not think that they had thought this one through properly. The university law school has a fantastic reputation, and I was convinced that they stood a very good chance of putting that reputation in jeopardy if they were to allow me to study there.
I proceeded to put myself through a form of torture that a normal would not do. Or at least, that is what I thought. I was convinced that I was going to get kicked off the course and have to enlist in some former polytechnic for a lesser degree. But that was not the case at all, I was welcomed with open arms. Every time I mentioned I should not be on this course because I did not know anything, the more welcoming they were.
Unbeknownst to me, I was beginning to develop a strategy for my imposter syndrome, but more of that later. I was overwhelmed with fear or being ridiculed and made to feel ashamed for not knowing anything. It was so bad, I asked to leave the course. This was of course refused by the university, who encouraged me to start and see how it went.
The realisation
During my first semester, I met a couple of experienced commercial lawyers on the course who recognised that I was out of my depth. There were 104 people on my course, and I was the only non-lawyer on the course. I was the only British person, and the pressure was mounting. I sat in the lessons every day with what must have been a look of complete fear and loss.
That look was a true reflection of my mental health at the time. Here I was at a university I should not be at, listening to the content of lessons that I do not understand with people far better than me. And then I met the friends I mentioned above.
They listened to my fears, burst out laughing and said there were things I had not realised yet. First, the university did not let me leave the course before it began purely for economic reasons. They could not afford to lose the £23,500 it cost for my master’s degree.
The second reason they laughed was because they did not have a clue about the subject content either, it was all a new experience for them. They were all lawyers, some of whom had been practicing law for many years. It did not matter, they know how to fill in forms and speak to clients etc., but they did not know why. That was the reason they were on the course, they wanted to improve and have a better theoretical comprehension of the material, that will benefit them in the professional life.
Not only that, but they also wanted to have the opportunity to improve their written and spoken English. Suffice to say, the current level of their English was better than mine, but they were constantly trying to improve, and they set themselves these challenges in order to do so. To understand this approach made me realise what I was doing wrong.
I had succumbed to the hysteria of the masses. I had to have imposter syndrome because everyone else did. I had to bow down to the institution of the university because of its reputation. The master’s degree was nearly impossible to pass so I had to be stressed about its content. The list goes on and on.
Now I was being introduced to a different approach, one that suited my rational way of thinking and approaching issues looking for solutions. I now knew that the university needed my money. Well not just mine, but they need money which included mine and they were not letting it go once they had it. This gave me a better understanding of my negotiating position with the administration and the constant haranguing for confirmation that I would be registering for another module and making payment.
The content could not be this difficult, if people from other countries, whose English is not their first, second or sometimes third language, can understand the concepts, then so can I. And I could cope with the new terms and concepts. I could do it so well by the end of my master’s degree, I was looking forward to my PhD.
Moving to the PhD
My approach to the PhD was different than for my master’s degree. I knew the supervisor that I wanted and I had the promise for a second supervisor from a field other than law which was beneficial to my research. This took away the pressure of selecting a university and worrying about its reputation. The supervisor relationship is far more important than the university’s reputation. The PhD is determined by many things, I do not think that the university’s reputation is on that list.
Even though my master’s degree had crushed my imposter syndrome, it started to rear its ugly head once I met the PhD students who were at different stages of their PhDs. The level of critical analysis and writing was far beyond my capabilities and I though everyone knew. But the PhD offers you opportunities to put these thoughts to bed forever. If you cannot do this, it provides coping techniques that allows you to push these thoughts out of your head.
My faculty has learning presentations every week during lunch were the staff present research that they are currently undertaking. The question-and-answer session following the presentations was of great benefit to me. It allowed me to understand how PhDs think and what they look for when critically analysing information.
Benefits of these weekly presentations provides an insight that the staff who present are sometimes having difficulties obtaining clarity of their chosen subjects. This provides relief to me in that I know now that my PhD does not have to be perfect. It has to withstand rigorous critical examination, but it does not have to be so perfect that everyone is in awe of it.
A further piece of advice I received was to read my supervisor’s thesis and also that of their last supervised student. I did this and it showed me that neither of them was perfect. This was essential in breaking any remaining imposter syndrome I retained.
Summary
I have found that if I do not buy into the myth that because I am doing a PhD, I must therefore have imposter syndrome, then it is easier to relieve any negative thoughts you might have. I carefully chose my supervisor and did not concern myself with the university’s reputation. It was far more important that I had the right supervisor.
I have taken part in various events, such as the 3-minute thesis competition, I have presented at faculty research days, attended a conference and presented parts of my thesis on several occasions. Allied to this is the reading of past theses and the attendance of current research project presentations.
I know that I can write the PhD now, I know that I belong, but more than anything, I have belief and knowledge that everyone at this level is being challenged whatever the stage of their academic career they are in. I am enjoying the journey and know that I belong and that I no longer have to worry about imposter syndrome.
[1] Clance, P. R., & Imes, S. A. (1978). The imposter phenomenon in high achieving women: Dynamics and therapeutic intervention. Psychotherapy: Theory, Research & Practice, 15(3), 241–247.