Imposter syndrome is the feeling that your success isn’t truly your own – that you’ve tricked others into thinking you’re more capable than you really are. It creeps up on you: like a new student questioning if they belong in their program, or new faculty worrying their work isn’t “enough”, or staff members being afraid to speak up in meetings.  

When I was first elected to serve as Student Body Vice-President, it didn’t feel real for the first few weeks. I had some big shoes to fill. The previous leaders had built a strong foundation and led projects that truly inspired me — their work showed what meaningful, student-driven change could look like. I wanted to create my own legacy, but at first, I wasn’t sure what I wanted it to be. It took time, reflection, and learning from others before I began to see where I could make my own impact. I kept waiting for someone to tell me I wasn’t ready or that it was a mistake.

Reality sank in, and I realized I had the opportunity to make a meaningful impact. I took the time to learn the ropes, meet with various campus partners, and understand how to jump-start initiatives. One of my proudest accomplishments during this time was the founding of the Association of Big Ten Students Mental Health and Wellness Coalition, which created a space for cross-campus collaborations and sharing of resources that had not previously existed. It was a moment that turned my initial feelings of uncertainty into feelings of momentum.  

The conditions that foster imposter syndrome are everywhere. Expectations are high, workloads are heavy, and the world outside the classroom feels unknown. Students face not only stress and burnout, but also struggles in food security, housing, and financial stability. Faculty and staff also face significant pressure, juggling research, teaching, and personal well-being within a fast-paced culture of higher education that rarely slows down.  It’s easy for that voice of doubt to sound louder than the truth of our resilience. The truth of resilience is that it’s already within us — it’s the quiet strength that keeps us moving forward even when we’re uncertain or afraid. It’s the ability to adapt, to learn from failure, and to grow through discomfort. Resilience doesn’t mean never feeling doubt; it means recognizing doubt for what it is and choosing to keep going anyway. 

The thing is: feeling like an imposter doesn’t mean you’re inadequate. Such feelings often indicate the opposite – a deep level of care, growth, and ambition. It can be challenging to name these emotions and to build a culture where no one has to navigate them alone. Acknowledging them openly creates space for learning and connection. When we normalize these experiences, we remind ourselves and others that with growth comes discomfort. Sharing our feelings with others rather than hiding them can transform isolation into community, and self-doubt into motivation.  

Nourishing a culture of care begins with honesty. When professors or mentors share their own stories of doubt, they open the door for others to do the same. When a student leader tells their peers that achieving a role of leadership doesn’t ease insecurity, it shows that achieving isn’t about perfection, it’s about persistence. Care shows up in the small, daily ways we support one another: crediting the effort of others, valuing teamwork as much as outcomes, and ensuring recognition is equitable. This means intentionally acknowledging everyone’s contributions, so that credit and appreciation are shared, and no one’s efforts go unnoticed. 

Here are a few ways to start: 

• Name it when you see it. If a student, peer, or colleague doubts themselves, remind them that growth often feels uncomfortable; this is proof that we are learning, not failing.
• Value the process, not only the product. Celebrate effort, collaboration, and persistence, and not just the outcomes and accolades.
• Normalize asking for help. Whether through campus mental health resources, mentorship, or peer networks, actively communicate that seeking support is a strength not a weakness.
• Lead with empathy. When someone is struggling, begin with care instead of judgment. 

Although we cannot eliminate impostering entirely, we can change the environment that amplifies it. By choosing care, in our classrooms, offices, and daily lives, we remind each other that achieving is built together.

Photo Credit: Unseen Studio on Unsplash