The Mathematics of Imposter Syndrome

Before we start, what color is your sky?  Take a second and see it.

My sky is orange, like the summer sky as the sun sets.  It blazes, undeniable in its reach, a painting my mind’s eye has tried to replicate numerous times.  When I ask most people about the color of their sky, they share a common answer: blue.

The sky question is intentional.  You see, the sky has no color.  It’s a reflection of our surroundings, of which, due to space and tricks in the light, the most frequent color is blue.  But, in the winter it goes a grey-white and at night, I’ve seen it go purple.  And sunrises and sunsets, those are by far the most vivid – sometimes, we get orange and a number of other hues.

Imposter syndrome is like the sky. It’s a reflection of all the things around us and the light we bring to it. As a woman in data/tech, I see a lot of posts about this. And most of them are about combatting, reaffirming, or otherwise trying to say (we/they/she/he/I – pick a group or person to reference) belong.

I talk to a lot of people.  And, sometimes, I’m blown away by the people who quietly say, I feel as if I don’t belong.  I’m always taken aback, as to me, how could that person NOT belong?

And, yet, I know I don’t belong either.  I could write hundreds of reasons, but they all surround and swirl around one thing: identity.  The world I’ve experienced, what matters to me, the languages I’ve lived in and shared the world through, how many can I find that get it like I do?  And how important is it to me?

Human culture is created by a shared history, shared customs and values, and shared ways of thinking.  Foods, and the way they’re served, are heavily indicative of culture.  It matters if we share a large spread, a common plate, and the rituals around it.  It matters if we salt freely or if the dish should be enjoyed as is.

As humans, we create culture wherever we go: work, school, and so forth.  Seth Godin calls this the tribe.  We buy into certain values.  We perceive certain truths.

Here’s the challenge with truth.  There’s your truth and what you see and believe.  There’s my truth and what I see and believe.  And then there are the facts around the events.  We can watch the same event and see different things due to our history.  And yet, we both saw it.

So what does this have to do with imposter syndrome?  To me, it’s mathematic: 

(   SUM(facets that make you different)

x COUNTD(people who don’t represent them)

+ COUNT(number of conversations you can’t relate to)  )

/  SUM(All the conversations you’re a part of)

_________________________________________________

= IMPOSTER SYNDROME

We are the kraken to our own ships here, kids.  We can take a tally of the world, add up all the numbers we see that account for our difference, and compare.  There are others who don’t feel like they belong.  If I were smarter, I’d make a for-profit club called The Outsiders and charge per head.  Even at pocket-change prices, I’d be rich.  Because a lot of us feel like we don’t belong.

We’re usually self-learners.

We’re usually strugglers.

We come from backgrounds that are different and can point to our mannerisms, accents, places of origins, or other parts of the narrative that clash with the overall story we see played out time and time again.

In short, we stand out.  Which is usually why we at some point find ourselves in the room wondering how it was we got here.  Unless you’re Mike Ross from Suits, the answer is rarely by accident and rarely that we’re a fraud.

At this point, most posts tell you how to combat it, to change your mind about being an imposter.  I’ll take a slightly different idea here…

You feel uncomfortable in the room.  Others do too.  So, what’s missing here?

If you’re in the room, you have a chance to change the dynamics of the room.  Hit the edges and start pulling others in.  Make a conga line if you have to.

But the other thing you can do, embrace the discomfort.  Don’t settle for a world that makes you uncomfortable because it likely makes others uncomfortable too.  Look around and figure out you and others can bring in more voices who are missing from the room.

We’re imposters when there’s too much of the same and we feel alone in our differences.  Yes, you’re different.  And that’s not a bad thing.  Use it for you, but use it for others.