How Stoicism Helped Banish My Imposter Syndrome

Imposter syndrome introduces itself to all of us, meet it with Stoicism.

It took me 13 years of school, an honours degree and a master’s with distinction to realise I was a phony.

I interviewed for my doctoral studentship in the morning and was accepted in the afternoon. I’d done it, I’d gamed the system. Somehow, I’d convinced a panel of academics of my intelligence and talent; my dreams were falling into place at once — fraudulently.

What did I know about the human brain? What right did I have setting experimental hypotheses? And why the hell had I thought I would be capable of doctoral research?!

I felt so privileged to be surrounded by incredibly talented people, to be part of stimulating intellectual debate and to be challenged by new ideas. But I knew it wouldn’t last long. These people were smart, and sooner or later, one of them was going to figure out my masterful deception.

I’d encountered imposter syndrome before. Equipped with an undergraduate degree in Psychology, I knew what the phenomena was. I knew the term was first coined in the 1970’s, I understood the academic definitions and I was aware of it’s prevalence in the population.

I also ‘ knew’ that this definitely didn’t apply to me. I really had slipped through the net… Or had I?

---

A few years in to my PhD, I listened to a podcast discussing the work of the Greek philosopher, Seneca, a famous practitioner of Stoicism. I’d always been interested in philosophy, but I’d never come across Stoicism.

The intuitiveness and simplicity resonated with me.

Stoicism is simple. Stoicism is an ancient Hellenistic school of philosophy, founded in Athens by Zeno of Citium in early 3rd century BC. I was drawn to Stoicism because of its emphasis on tangible ways which can help us overcome destructive emotions and deal with issues which are actually within our control. In recent years, the philosophy has been popularised by contemporary writers such as Ryan Holiday, who provides a much richer explanation of the philosophy in his books.

The teachings of stoicism aim to remind us of how brief and unpredictable our lives are, and encourages us to meet life with a sense of control and inner strength. Stoics did not concern themselves with presenting complex theories, but instead aimed to reveal the importance of living in accordance with your true nature.

Although many of the original works of Stoic philosophers such as Zeno and Epictetus have not survived to the modern day, there are a wealth of secondary sources which discuss their writings. We have seminal works from Marcus Aurelius and Seneca to learn from too. Plus, there’s no shortage of modern-day Stoic writers.

Never-the-less, I’d like to add to the conversation.

This is how meeting my imposter syndrome with Stoic principles provided an antidote to my destructive thought patterns.

---

Take control of your thoughts

When it comes to imposter syndrome, inner monologue is everything.

“Such as are your habitual thoughts, such also will be the character of your mind; for the soul is dyed by the thoughts.” — Marcus Aurelius

The dialogue you have with yourself each day is leaves a mark on your perspective of yourself, and of the world. With each negative criticism, with each unnecessary judgement, you entrain a thought pattern which destroys self-belief and distorts your perspective of reality. By engaging with an inner discourse of constant disrespect of your abilities and disregard for your achievements, feeling like an imposter is somewhat inevitable.

As you tell yourself you can’t, it’s a likelihood you won’t. The more you dismiss the good you have provided, the more you’re worth will fade.

Enforcing this pattern of self-negativity fosters accompanying physiological changes; neuronal connections are strengthened by repetition of thought and behaviour. If you re-enforce a pattern of incessantly thinking or acting like you aren’t ‘good enough’ or ‘don’t belong’ in a certain position, then soon, you’ll have built strong neuronal networks to underpin that as a foundation for who you are.

This pattern will taint your inner monologue and perspective toward everything you encounter. This spills over into your behaviour, and eventually, you embody the internal thoughts about who you are: an imposter.

Your thoughts resonate through your actions, shaping you and the world you encounter. Marcus Aurelius’ proposition that ‘the soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts’, left a significant mark on my life. When I find myself slipping into negative self-talk or to destructive, wasteful thought patterns, I try to almost habitually come back to this quote. I remind myself that by providing a good quality inner discourse, I allow my soul and my character to become better. As I understand it, Stoics believed ‘improving’ the soul, allows for a life more harmoniously aligned with the key virtues of Stoicism, prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance (or: wisdom, morality, courage, and moderation, as Douglas Robertson defines them).

Breaking long-standing negative thought patterns is a difficult thing to do. It’s likely going to be different for everyone. I still experience moments of deep worry or panic regarding my ineptitude at certain tasks and how “they’ll march me out of the door as soon as they find out the truth”.

It is during these times that I come back to this concept. The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts. Sometimes I only repeat it in my head, sometimes I say it out loud. I use it as a method of reigning in my mind.

I remind myself that what I think shapes and mould the deepest parts of me, right down to the synapses within my brain.

I break the thought pattern as soon as I can and prevent re-enforcement of vicious neural networks. Instead, I work to find a more balanced narrative. I’ve been practicing this for some time, and I’ve noticed incremental improvements in the frequency and severity of my feelings of being an imposter.

---

You can’t control the thoughts of others, so don’t worry about them

For me, imposter syndrome weighed heaviest on me when I thought at any length about what people might think of me.

In meetings, I’d hold my tongue and refrain from sharing my thoughts, just in case I let slip my ignorance for a certain topic. I held back questions and struggled for weeks trying to find the answers, for fear that asking might make others aware of gaps in my experience. I stunted my own intellectual growth, in favour of how I was perceived by others.

“It never ceases to amaze me: we all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinion than our own.” — Marcus Aurelius

Since I can remember, I’ve excelled in everything I’ve turned my hand to. As a child, many long hours on sunny days were spent in a small utility room practicing piano. Not because my parents told me to. Not even because it brought me more joy than playing outside with other kids would. Simply because it had to be perfect. A sigh or eye-roll from my piano instructor was crushing. In the eyes of others, I had to be perfect.

I couldn’t stand having anyone think I wasn’t capable. In fact, I wanted to be the best they’d encountered. I laugh as I think about it now, it’s completely ludicrous; I cared more about what other people thought of my work, than what I thought of it myself. In fact, at some point, I stopped sharing anything I’d create. I’d actively hide from feedback, be it constructive or critical… Basically, the antithesis of how an aspiring scientist should behave. Upon reflection, I can see that my obsession with being viewed positively by others completely arrested my development.

I chose to do, or not do, things based on my imagined opinions for others. I look back on the person I was, and I feel how deeply unhappy I’d become. In retrospect, I can see how lost and afraid I really was.

Stoic teachings provided with me a transformative lesson: let go of what is out for your control, there is no benefit in worrying about it. This is a simple lesson, but it has shaped me into who I am now, and enabled me to find my way in life.

“The chief task in life is simply this: to identify and separate matters so that I can say clearly to myself which are externals not under my control, and which have to do with the choices I actually control. Where then do I look for good and evil? Not to uncontrollable externals, but within myself to the choices that are my own…” — Epictetus

There’s no way that I can control what other people think about me. I can’t control what they say to me or their actions around me. I can’t convince everyone of my intellectual ability, and I can’t control if someone thinks I’m inadequate.

What I can do is control my own actions; actions which lead me closer to who I want to be. Instead of shying away from a question in fear that I may be viewed as stupid, I now embrace the process of asking and learning. I control the quality of the questions I ask, and I control my own inner development. All I can do is choose to show up and do the right thing for me. I learned to live in a way that is aligned with my own nature, not somebody else’s.

“There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power or our will.” — Epictetus

Now I do my best to live in a way where I don’t place judgement on external things which are out my control. I try not to become overwhelmed with worry, panic, anger or sadness about a situation, event or what someone might say or think of me.

It’s not easy. Sometimes I slip in to old habits, but, the important thing is that I can catch myself doing it now. Even simply having an awareness, puts me in a better place than yesterday.

As soon as I started to look inwards at my own thoughts and behaviours, instead of at everyone else’s, I found my imposter syndrome started to melt away.

As a side note: since practicing this, I’ve realised some of the best mentors I’ve had have been harsh critics. In fact, it is through working with these people that I’ve experienced the most profound steps in my development, both personally and scientifically. Perhaps, that’s a story for another day.

---

Review the Day: Journal

Marcus Aurelius’ meditations are some of the most prolific works of the famous practitioners of Stoicism. The writing of this Roman Emperor has endured throughout the ages, and is still widely read in our modern society. These writings weren’t produced for public consumption. In fact, they were produced from his habitual journalling.

“Nothing has such power to broaden the mind as the ability to investigate systematically and truly all that comes under thy observation in life.” — Marcus Aurelius

Marcus Aurelius journalled daily, and even noted in this journal his advocation that everyone should follow a similar practice of reviewing the day before resting for the evening. This practice wasn’t unique to Marcus, it’s a hallmark of many other ancient Stoic thinkers. I find it to be one of the most tangibly and easily implemented practices of Stoicism.

“When the light has been removed and my wife has fallen silent, aware of this habit that’s now mine, I examine my entire day and go back over what I’ve done and said, hiding nothing from myself, passing nothing by.” — Seneca

I started a routine of writing in my journal last thing before bed. The main focus of this isn’t to craft long or well-written entries; it’s simply to be honest about my day.

As many others do, I write about the events of my day. In doing so, I try not to use emotive language, instead writing simple and honest entries about the day’s events. I write honestly about what I encountered and how I behaved. I include a section about what I think I did well and what I could improve upon.

The thing about writing is that it’s much more difficult to lie to yourself or gloss over difficult realisations than it is when simply thinking about your day. By writing as honestly and non-judgementally as possible, I aim to take an objective look at myself.

This practice has been incredibly useful in releasing me from an emotionally-clouded perception of myself and my experiences. It allows me to view external events and my behaviours with a moderate and fair view. On many occasions, it’s highlighted to me my capabilities and prevented my inner monologue from diminishing them.

Perhaps more importantly, reviewing my day has also allowed me to identify the areas which I really could improve. Equipped with that knowledge, I’ve been able to start working on myself. Having something tangible to work on has also helped to prevent feelings of imposter syndrome. Even when there is something that hasn’t gone to plan, I have something to improve on, as opposed to spiralling into worry and fear. The process reminds me that I have another chance to do things better, and it guides me towards ways in which I might achieve it.

---

I read a lot about imposter syndrome when I was experiencing it at it’s worst. I read a lot about ‘acting your way through it’ until you no longer feel like such a fraud. There’s certainly value in these methods.

Instead, I found that turning inwards and nurturing a deep examination of myself provided a more effective remedy.

I hope that this may be true for others too.