But what if I'm not good enough?

I wish I could say this blog was about something in my past. It seems like every time I see a potential goal to reach for, I am haunted by a deep sense of doubt. While this has not kept me from pursuing some very cool (and occasionally very foolish) opportunities, there seems to be no shaking the little voice in my head: You have no business here.

This phenomenon has been called imposter syndrome and it’s pretty common—especially so among women. In my Ph.D. program, it’s practically prevalent among us.

Growing up, I don’t think it really occurred to me that there was anything I couldn’t do. My parents’ childrearing tactics were ripe with the spirit of the revolutionary movements of the ‘60s and ‘70s and sought to raise me with values that tended to avoid overt gender roles. My mother would tell me stories about the only jobs available for women when she was in school, and how women were discouraged from academic pursuits. My father had a saying he would always use when I was nervous about trying something new: “Someone has to do it—why not you?” So, it would seem safe to assume that I was not being groomed for a life of self-doubt.

However, this is not to say that my childhood was obstacle-free. Despite the encouragement of my family and friends, there were those who sought to find and point out faults. Many times, I felt deserving of their criticisms because I knew there were other people out there who could do what I could better than I. I wanted to be the best. I would never be the best.

Fortunately, at some point, I realized that being the best was not really the ultimate goal. I’m not entirely sure when that happened, but I think it was sometime in high school when I was at the height of applying for undergraduate programs. My grades were less than stellar (if I couldn’t be the best, why try?) and I was sure that my talents weren’t sufficient to get scholarships (she’s a much better writer/singer/actress/scholar/etc. so she deserves it—not me). For some reason, though, I maintained the optimism that some school somewhere would take me. As it turned out, it was the College of Wooster in Wooster, OH. It seems they have a soft spot (and a few nice scholarships) for people like me.

I thrived at Wooster (more about that for another blog!) but, at the time, I didn’t consider academics beyond undergraduate work. I had been well-trained to be a teacher, and was highly educated in the liberal arts. It wasn’t until I was told by the State of Ohio that a teacher needed to be “highly qualified” to keep their job and I went in search of a quick and easy master’s degree in…whatever. I had never had a reason to get another degree, and now that I was being forced to, I grudgingly enrolled in school again. No sooner than I had started my coursework, a little flame in my head ignited. I LOVED learning. I finished my degree in record time, and my adviser suggested I consider getting a Ph.D. I had never thought of such a thing. Turns out, no one had ever suggested it. Most importantly, I hadn’t. Why? Because I wasn’t one of the best.

Being the best at something is a myth. There are always qualifiers. If we constantly live as if we aren’t worth anything unless we are the best at it, we will always be worthless. In all of our endeavors, there are things we are good at, and things we find challenging, but that doesn’t mean we don’t belong there—and it certainly doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try. In my current studies at Kent, I have frequently heard the voice of doubt trying to deter me in the back of my head. No, I am not the smartest. No, I am not the best with deadlines. No, I am not the most fantastic scholar in my field. None of that matters. My self-determination cannot be fueled by my fears that I will never be as good as someone else. My only opponent is my self-constructed doubt. No one can destroy that voice except for me. That is my goal.

So, do I belong here? Hell, yeah, I belong here—and so do you.

#imposter #women #highachieving #doubt #goals