When I got to campus, many students talked about “Imposter Syndrome” and their experience with it throughout their time here. So as someone who had not heard that term before, I did not know what it was and how that could apply to me. “Imposter Syndrome” is considered a “psychological phenomenon” in which individuals feel that they are undeserving of their success. That is, it’s the feeling you get when you get accepted to a prestigious college and dismiss that on the account of your race, luck, or your generous and beautifully written teacher recommendations as opposed to your own actual accomplishments. It’s the feeling that you don’t belong in a place that houses future writers and political leaders and musicians and acrobats. It’s the turning in my stomach that happens when I start to ask myself, “What exactly am I doing here?”
In high school, I was afraid to internalize the idea that my accomplishments made me a worthwhile person. I thought it too silly and pretentious. My good grades, my activeness in school groups and my awards were nothing to boast about because it didn’t make me any less susceptible to stress or frustration or anxiety. Most of all, I realized that a shiny medal or a glimmering certificate did not make people any more interested in who I was or what I wanted to do with my life. I think I strived to achieve those little tokens for everyone around me instead– my family, my teachers, my counselors. So initially “Imposter Syndrome” seemed incompatible with my mentality.
It’s wasn’t until these past few weeks in college that I’ve started to feel the nooks of this idea. Undeserving. I’m not looking to major in biology or chemistry to become a doctor later in life; I’m not crazy about coding to make screens appear the way I want them to; I’m not enthusiastic about solving math problems that explain the universe. In fact, I’m not even remotely good at the things I think I AM passionate about. To be completely honest, I don’t whether I can measure up to the pressure that accompanies that. Even though I know that the my accomplishments don’t truly define me as a person, the process of beginning to accumulate an academic reputation and relationships to new professors is extremely terrifying. At first, I welcomed the possibility of being two thousand miles away from home and in a different environment than the one I was used to. But as this year progresses, I realize more and more that there are certain values to remembering those roots.
Even though I don’t feel entirely comfortable at the level that I am at right now, I know that the foundations of my future success remain based on my perspective. It’s hard to look at a blank page after years of working on the same piece. However, I know that with the skills we accumulate over the years, this newer portrait of ourselves can be even more beautiful than the last.