When James and I were discussing which topics come up regularly in our coaching practice, among the usual top of the pops (going for promotion, stuck in a career rut, improving communication skills) we agreed that imposter syndrome was a theme which arose on a startlingly regular basis.

When I started out at the IPO I do remember having the micky taken out of me for the regularity with which I mentioned that I’d also studied for a Law degree, at Exeter (alongside the Chemistry). I think that I’ve had that feeling of needing to justify my presence at each major change of school, role or organisation (and each major change in life). I did pretty well at school, though when my son dug through the drawers at my parents and found a big bundle of my school reports it highlighted over and over again how I was a bit of a slow starter, who generally pulled it together at the 11th hour.

Just when I’d earned my place among the achievers at first school, I was moved up to middle school, where I was behind the best of the year again, then at high school and again at 6th form. There were some wonderfully bright sparks at Exeter and then when I joined the Patent Office I suddenly found myself sharing an office with an Oxford graduate and almost all of my colleagues had doctorates (at least).

My mum went back to University as a mature student, when my sister and I were at school, so I watched her study, graduate, and then do a PhD (helping her dig up sugar beet in randomised plots in fields across the country to determine the effects of sulphur deficiency on their growth). Having seen this at close quarters I knew how much effort that level of dedication takes, when focussing on a narrow topic. My third year chemistry project was one of the planks that formed the basis of a PhD, which my friend Jon went on to carry out (kudos) with a dedication I doubt I’d have been able to muster.

Over the years I’ve found myself surrounded by high achievers (partners who are highly educated and quick of wit and friends and colleagues who seem to always be undertaking some new escapade or project which feels daunting to someone of my skills and abilities).

Reading around the syndrome, I’m struck by how many famous people seem to have laboured under it too. You read a John Steinbeck quote in which he said 

“I am not a writer. I’ve been fooling myself and other people.”. Coming from the author of such masterpieces as Cannery Row and Tortilla flat, it seems utterly bizarre that they can have doubts too.

Closer to home it’s always a bit of a shock when you lift the lid, in a coaching conversation, and find that sometimes people of exceptional talent and competence are wracked with anxiety about their job, or a bit of work they’re doing, or about some part of life that they seem to be knocking out of the park.

Are we all just bluffing? Feeling like frauds and worried that we’re going to be found out at any moment?

It turns out to be a particular issue with highflyers. My colleague Hazel Craven delivered a wonderful bit of coaching CPD a couple of years ago and laid out one shocking statistic that 70% of high achievers, regardless of gender, experience it.

The underpinnings come from the belief that our value depends on what we say and what we do, that our conditional worth is tied to doing an activity that we’re worried we’re not doing well enough.

Untackled, it can be pretty destructive, risking burnout, stress, anxiety, lying and a habit of over-preparing.

James has pulled together a framework to help a coachee gain awareness of their self-doubt and inner critic, pick out where triggers for these thoughts might arise and test the beliefs. After this surveying of the state of the landscape, the model then takes a coachee (and their coach) through steps to reframe those beliefs, form actions to bump you into into building confidence and then ways to integrate those positive actions to ensure they become business as usual, and not just fleeting well-intentions.

https://www.aspirationexperts.com/resources

We’ve been giving it a few trial runs and fine tuning the approach. If any of this resonates, we’d like to hear from you to test it out further (there’s a free session going to the next person to approach us about it).

It’s laid out really nicely and allows a person to work through some questions and concepts at their own pace, and then zoom in on the pertinent, resonant parts to help to move them forward, and, considering the downsides of not doing so, I would say it’s a valuable endeavour. Crikey, even Einstein himself doubted his worth (he used the words in the title of this blog, about himself).

As creative types seem to be particularly struck down I googled to see if there were any cool songs on the topic and found that one of my favourites from a few years back wasn’t just about Phoebe Bridgers’ rubbish dad but also about how she dissociates when good stuff happens (like touring Japan, successfully, with her band), along with when the not so good stuff happens. I’ll leave you with it as the credits roll.