You can’t control the thoughts of others, so don’t worry about them

For me, imposter syndrome weighed heaviest on me when I thought at any length about what people might think of me.

In meetings, I’d hold my tongue and refrain from sharing my thoughts, just in case I let slip my ignorance for a certain topic. I held back questions and struggled for weeks trying to find the answers, for fear that asking might make others aware of gaps in my experience. I stunted my own intellectual growth, in favour of how I was perceived by others.

“It never ceases to amaze me: we all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinion than our own.” — Marcus Aurelius

Since I can remember, I’ve excelled in everything I’ve turned my hand to. As a child, many long hours on sunny days were spent in a small utility room practicing piano. Not because my parents told me to. Not even because it brought me more joy than playing outside with other kids would. Simply because it had to be perfect. A sigh or eye-roll from my piano instructor was crushing. In the eyes of others, I had to be perfect.

I couldn’t stand having anyone think I wasn’t capable. In fact, I wanted to be the best they’d encountered. I laugh as I think about it now, it’s completely ludicrous; I cared more about what other people thought of my work, than what I thought of it myself. In fact, at some point, I stopped sharing anything I’d create. I’d actively hide from feedback, be it constructive or critical… Basically, the antithesis of how an aspiring scientist should behave.

Upon reflection, I can see that my obsession with being viewed positively by others completely arrested my development.

I chose to do, or not do, things based on my imagined opinions for others. I look back on the person I was, and I feel how deeply unhappy I’d become. In retrospect, I can see how lost and afraid I really was.

Stoic teachings provided with me a transformative lesson: let go of what is out for your control, there is no benefit in worrying about it. This is a simple lesson, but it has shaped me into who I am now, and enabled me to find my way in life.

“The chief task in life is simply this: to identify and separate matters so that I can say clearly to myself which are externals not under my control, and which have to do with the choices I actually control. Where then do I look for good and evil? Not to uncontrollable externals, but within myself to the choices that are my own…” — Epictetus

There’s no way that I can control what other people think about me. I can’t control what they say to me or their actions around me. I can’t convince everyone of my intellectual ability, and I can’t control if someone thinks I’m inadequate.

What I can do is control my own actions; actions which lead me closer to who I want to be. Instead of shying away from a question in fear that I may be viewed as stupid, I now embrace the process of asking and learning. I control the quality of the questions I ask, and I control my own inner development. All I can do is choose to show up and do the right thing for me.

I learned to live in a way that is aligned with my own nature, not somebody else’s.

“There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power or our will.” — Epictetus

Now I do my best to live in a way where I don’t place judgement on external things which are out my control. I try not to become overwhelmed with worry, panic, anger or sadness about a situation, event or what someone might say or think of me.

It’s not easy. Sometimes I slip in to old habits, but, the important thing is that I can catch myself doing it now. Even simply having an awareness, puts me in a better place than yesterday.

As soon as I started to look inwards at my own thoughts and behaviours, instead of at everyone else’s, I found my imposter syndrome started to melt away.

As a side note: since practicing this, I’ve realised some of the best mentors I’ve had have been harsh critics. In fact, it is through working with these people that I’ve experienced the most profound steps in my development, both personally and scientifically. Perhaps, that’s a story for another day.