Perspectives on Imposter Syndrome

Image by blkjohn67 at Pixabay

Most people move through life with a quiet belief that they are somehow different from everyone else. Of course, I am different and unique and so are you. However, the irony is that thoughts like: “I don’t fit in,” “People wouldn’t understand me,” or “I shouldn’t be here”, although deeply felt and personal, is one of the most universal human experiences we have.

Psychologically, part of this comes from how the mind works. Think about our old friend our private inner world. This is a world that we have full, open access to, which means access to every personal doubt, contradiction, memory, and fear. Contrast this with our very limited access to the polished outer surfaces of other people’s inner world and we end up with a comparison that puts our complexity up against their simplicity. The result? We conclude that somehow we are the exception.

Add to this a cultural obsession with individuality, and the belief becomes stronger. Modern society encourages us to define ourselves sharply: I am this, not that. I belong here, not there. At first glance, this looks like uniqueness — but the drive itself is common.

Terms like imposter syndrome reinforce this illusion. They take ordinary self-doubt — something most people experience — and turn it into something that sounds clinical or problematic. But underneath, imposter syndrome often reflects a perfectly normal encounter with uncertainty, challenge, or growth. So then we have a paradox in that our desire to be exceptional makes us the same.  

However, the picture changes when we introduce context which gives additional perspectives on imposter syndrome.

For many people — especially those navigating environments historically shaped by exclusion — the feeling of not belonging isn’t just a matter of internal psychology. It’s a response to external conditions. If a workplace, industry, or culture sends subtle or overt messages about who typically belongs and who doesn’t, then that discomfort is not a syndrome. It’s a signal.

In those cases, the problem is not the individual — it’s the environment.

When someone walks into a space where very few people share their background, identity, language, or lived experience, doubt is not irrational. It’s adaptive. The mind is simply reading the room.

So we need to be thinking about this from multiple perspectives.

If we treat belonging difficulties purely as internal deficits — something the individual must fix through confidence training, positive thinking, or mindset work — we unintentionally reinforce the message: “The problem is you.”

A more useful starting point is: “What would need to change in this environment so more people feel they can show up fully and thrive?”

At Bonmotus, this distinction matters. Our work in psychological and behavioural skill development focuses not on forcing people to suppress natural uncertainty or mask their differences. Still, on helping individuals and teams develop the flexibility to navigate challenge and the humility to create environments where belonging isn’t accidental — it’s intentional.