My Story of the Inner Imposter
Are you terrified of making a mistake?
That fear—the one that makes your stomach drop when something goes wrong in the OR, or your mind replays a case over and over wondering if you really dissected out that critical structure or if your brain was playing tricks on you—is one of the clearest signs that an inner imposter might be running the show.
No matter how long you’ve been in practice, even after years or decades as a surgeon, if some part of you still worries that one mistake could collapse your entire career, imposter syndrome is probably still holding you back.
It’s the voice of your imposter part telling you that you’re one misstep away from being exposed.
When I First Met the Imposter
I know that voice well. I had full-blown imposter syndrome.
I first noticed it in medical school, though I didn’t have the language for it at the time.
I remember walking the halls during my first year, feeling intimidated by everyone around me, half expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder and escort me out of the building. I was sure they’d realize I didn’t belong.
Maybe it came from my difficult childhood, surviving trauma, poverty, and chaos.
Maybe it was perfectionism, or tying my self-worth to external validation.
Most likely, it was all of those things.
Whatever the origin, imposter syndrome became a constant companion throughout my career. I carried it into residency, into practice, and through every professional milestone. For more than a decade, I kept pushing forward, shoving that feeling down and telling myself to just do my job.
But when we ignore the inner imposter instead of examining it, we cut ourselves off from our highest potential. We can perform, but we can’t fully thrive. We keep our worlds small. We don’t reach our highest potential.
It wasn’t until a couple of years ago, eleven years out of training, that I finally turned toward it instead of away from it. That’s when everything began to shift.
Where It All Began
The term imposter phenomenon was first coined in 1978 by Dr. Pauline Clance and Dr. Suzanne Imes, two clinical psychologists who studied thought patterns in high-achieving women.
They described it as a state of fear, self-doubt, and the persistent feeling of being a fraud, even in the face of overwhelming evidence of success.
What’s fascinating is that these feelings often appear because of success, not in spite of it.
Even when we have myriad external indicators of success, like degrees, awards, titles, and glowing feedback, we still feel undeserving. It’s as though our internal sense of worth never quite catches up to the evidence.
Dr. Clance herself experienced imposter feelings in graduate school, and I often wonder if her research was her way of confirming she wasn’t alone. That instinct—to study what haunts us—is deeply human. And if you recognize yourself in this description, you’re in good company.
The Silence That Keeps It Alive
There’s a psychological term for what keeps so many of us quiet about this: pluralistic ignorance.
It describes the collective illusion that everyone else has it together.
We look around and assume no one else struggles, so we keep our doubts hidden. In surgery, that silence is amplified.
We’re trained to project authority and avoid vulnerability. We tell ourselves we must have a steady hand and put forth a confident facade, no matter what’s happening in our internal world.
That silence strengthens the imposter. The less we name it, the more power it gains.
So I talk about it openly and unapologetically because the moment we speak about it, it starts to lose its grip.
As Brené Brown reminds us, shame cannot survive the light of day.
And perhaps imposter syndrome can’t either.
Reflection Prompt:
Where did your imposter story begin? Was it in training, your first attending job, or even earlier in life? Trace it back. Not to blame, but to understand. Awareness is the first step toward change.
Next in this series: How to reframe the imposter and retrain your brain toward self-trust.
Need support? Join us in Empowered Surgeons Group. We talk about imposter syndrome openly and honestly.