Arguments Rebutting Claims of Imposter Syndrome
In the last month or so, I’ve done a few things I not only didn’t believe I could, but even swore I’d never do. At the root of my insistence was a lack of belief in myself and what I knew. Someone else had to point out to me that putting yourself forth as an expert is not limited to people with a string of degrees to their credit, or people who’ve accomplished something world-shaking. Each of us is an expert in our own right simply by navigating the perils and pitfalls of life and coming out reasonably whole on the other side.
For some, those perils might seem mild or even benign from the outside looking in, but unless you know what someone started with; what tools they had in their virtual rucksack, and the experiences they came here to learn, you have no idea what it took for them to achieve their own version of expertise. Typically though, the one we judge most harshly is ourself, despite a reasonable understanding of where we came from and what we had to work with in the beginning.
Experience vs. Education
These days, I’m talking a lot about the strength we have hidden inside until we recognize and embrace 
our vulnerability. Whereas my understanding of the topic comes from living my life and later, writing extensively to open doors I’d closed and locked, there are many who it would be easy to defer to as far more knowledgeable than I. People like Brene Brown who, in her own words:
I’ve spent the past two decades studying courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy.
If you’ve read much of my own work, this probably sounds hauntingly familiar. Add the words “stigma”, “mental health”, “suicide”, and “gratitude” and you have my life path and message in a nutshell. But whereas Ms. Brown is a research professor at Houston University with over 2 decades of research behind her, my own degree in Accounting isn’t even related to the areas in which I now claim expertise. How easy it would be to throw in the towel and say: There’s no way I can put myself into the same class as people who’ve spent years studying books and conducting surveys with real people.
Recognizing the Authority We Gain From the Life We’ve Lived
Or I could look at the many psychologists and visionaries like Marianne Williamson or Dr. Judith Orloff, all of whom are published authors and respected authorities, and hide my head in the sand, focusing on all I don’t know. While there are times I will look at all I lack, I’ve been slowly turning it around lately. For much of the change, I owe Linda Clay a huge debt of gratitude. She’s helped me, if not silence the voices telling me I’m an imposter, at least stop letting them convince me of my unworthiness to be in such lofty company.
The truth is, we gain a great deal of expertise from living life and overcoming obstacles, not only those which are strewn in our path, but the ones we create ourselves. We are our own case study, but instead of observing dispassionately from a distance, we must find our way safely to the other side before we can finish the study. Over and over again.
Overcoming Obstacles and Adding Tools to Our Arsenal
I look back to where I was 20 years ago; alone, disconnected, angry, more than a little depressed. I had a failed marriage, a string of soul-sucking jobs, 2 precocious and strong-willed daughters to raise by myself, and less self-esteem than a dead gnat to my credit. I’d lost my mother to suicide and my dad was getting harder and harder to be around as he, too sank further into depression, though I didn’t recognize it for what it was until it was too late. Even if I had, I know I couldn’t have helped him as, like my mother, he’d have denied it while at the same time, refusing my help. That’s the way he was raised, and the way he raised me.
Despite the odds against me, and subsequently, the elevated risk of suicide as my dad, too, chose that option to make his own exit, I managed to finish raising my daughters, change jobs a couple more times, and eventually leave the corporate world and accounting behind to forge a new career path with little more than exhaustion and a desire to follow my true passion to support my decision. But though major success continues to elude me, the one thing I haven’t done is give up.
The World is My University
I’ve taken courses, looked at options, written hundreds of thousands of words (maybe close to a million 
by now), re-grouped over and over, and finally found a way to work with a business coach. Even though my dream is still on the other side of the horizon, it’s still alive, and I’m getting closer to it each day. The process of working through the challenges I’ve faced, and continuing to hold my dream in my heart and head are what make me an expert—and I’m finally coming into my own by believing my experience is enough to make it so.
I don’t need to study hundreds of other people to know what I’ve learned works. In fact, I have my own case studies which, until now, I didn’t even recognize. By writing about my own experiences as part of my lesson in vulnerability and connection, I’m attracting others who have their own stories; their own successes and failures. I learn from them, as they do from me. I’m learning to seize the opportunity to listen to someone who has a story to tell, and a life lesson to impart.
What each of us learns and discovers isn’t an exact fit for someone else, but those lessons serve two purposes. One, they give us something to share with others so they can, if they choose take the parts that resonate, and leave the rest behind. Two, they allow us to connect with others on a much deeper level than we would if we kept everything to ourselves, refusing to share even a glimmer of the flawed, but perfect person behind our masks and walls—much like I did for more than 4 decades.
Lessons are Lessons Wherever They’re Found
I now realize someone like Brene Brown might have 2 decades of research in a lab, probably with some real human subjects to study. But I have 6 decades and counting of actually slogging through the mire and figuring things out for myself without the benefit of previous case studies, research assistants, or fancy equipment. I not only know what it all looks like, I know what it feels like. You can’t get more expert than that.
I suspect many of today’s educated experts went into their course of study because of some personal experiences, so they’re not relying entirely on observation. When I was doing research on family suicide, I came across Dr. Thomas Joiner, a professor at Florida State University who was inspired to study mental health and family suicide after losing his father during a family camping trip. I wouldn’t be surprised if many others chose their career path because of factors in their own lives.
Experience is the greatest teacher. Even job applicants are asked if they have experience doing the job they’re applying for. So when you look at your own life and the lessons you’ve learned in the school of hard knocks, don’t remove them from your resume. They are integral to the person you are and have yet to become because life’s lessons don’t end until life as we know it ceases.
You can also watch my Facebook Live, “Imposter Syndrome Rears Its Ugly Head Again”
About the Author
Sheri Conaway is a writer, blogger, ghostwriter, and advocate for cats. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, 
but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income. If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author. And check out her new group, Putting Your Whole Heart Forward.
Be sure to watch this space for news of the upcoming release of “Life Torn Asunder: Rebuilding After Suicide”.
