I don’t have imposter syndrome.. That’s what I said.

I’ve actually said that out loud and believed it. Despite estimates suggesting that 70% of us will have at least one episode of imposter syndrome in our lifetime, I could honestly say I hadn’t had that experience.?

Until late last year, when my episode arrived at the doorstep.

I’d heard other people say they felt like imposters for years but was dismissive about it for myself. My definition was narrow: imposter syndrome strikes when you get an assignment or a role that you don’t feel you’re qualified for. You’re not deserving. Luck has smiled your way, not competence. And chances are, you’re going to be found out and exposed as a pretender. A fraud. Fear and anxiety, not confidence, are primary emotions.?

I’m willing to set ambitious goals and work hard to achieve them. My childhood years of music lessons and a university degree in piano performance haven’t translated into an adult career, but they have blessed me with discipline and an ability to stick to tasks even when difficult. Professionally, I’ve been called a late bloomer. So, when something I worked for came along, I was less likely to think, “Who, me?” and more likely to think, “Finally.”

But the imposter syndrome switch was flipped late last year with the Thinkers50 announcement for 2021. Thinkers50 is an organization dedicated to amplifying the top business and management ideas and every other year they announce awards for thought leadership in a variety of management categories.

I’ve been on their list the last few cycles.

I’d been doing good work; my fourth book, Smart Growth, was about to be released. It was my expectation that I would be among the Top 50 again in 2021.

As I tuned into the announcement ceremony virtually, I was disconcerted that as they announced Thinkers 50 to 11, I wasn’t on the list.

What happened? How come I’m not on the list? Maybe I wasn’t doing work as good as I thought I was.

Then came the countdown for the top ten.

I was #8.

In a nanosecond my thinking flipped from “why didn’t I make the list?” to “Wait. What?”?

I shouldn’t be that high. I don’t deserve to be that high. And the Imposter Syndrome clincher, “Others will think I don’t deserve to be that high.”

There are some spaces and places where subjectivity isn’t much of an issue. You run the fastest. Jump the highest. Dive the deepest. Objectively, the data verifies that you deserve to be in whatever position you’re in. Others can see it. Perhaps most importantly, you can see it. It doesn’t leave room for the vulture of self-doubt to roost.

But much of life isn’t like that. Objective data isn’t available to prove our value in every case. Some things aren’t measurable that way. Many things happen as the result of somebody’s subjective judgment call.

You get an opportunity: a chance to write; to speak; a promotion or coveted assignment comes your way. Or you receive an award or other form of recognition.

Sometimes we’ve planned and worked for the new opportunity. We may think, “It’s about time,” as I have had occasion to do at times when I’ve received a promotion or the like. Maybe we were forewarned that recognition for our work was coming our way and had time to relish the anticipation of receiving it.? On other occasions we are pushed to do something new, to make the best of a tough situation. We may think, “I didn’t expect (or want) this. I guess I’ll have to figure it out.” Think of what happened to all of us in different ways with the pandemic. Whatever our particular situation, we had to be resourceful and figure it out.

But sometimes we are pushed into something better than we expected, or different, or sooner than we expected. And the fact is that there may be someone, including ourselves, or several others, who think we don’t deserve to be in that spot—whatever it is. Not yet; maybe not ever.?

Imposter syndrome is more complex than I once thought. One of my first realizations after discovering I was experiencing it, was that I’ve been pretending all along. There are numerous indicators of various imposter types. If these indicators were an exam, I’d get an A. I have pretty much all of them and have for a long time.

After the Thinkers50 event, I confided my insecurity to my colleague and friend, Liz Wiseman, who wisely told me, “Whether you think you deserve to be in this position is now irrelevant. What matters is, what are you going to do now that you are here?” She even said to me, as a good friend, “Now that you are on this S Curve, what are you going to do?”

I’m trying to find a way to make meaning. That is what I usually do. Try to understand the experience and discern what I can learn from it, what I can do with it.

Even if we don’t quite believe that we deserve the chance we have, someone did. Maybe deep down we do too. Or at least we believed we could be there eventually. Someone else just saw our potential fulfilled earlier than we did. We often think of unexpectedly bad things as opportunities for growth. It’s a way to cope with challenging situations, but it’s more than that too. Difficulties stretch us; they are intrinsically weighted towards growth.?

Unexpectedly good things are opportunities to grow, too.?

Predictability is less fertile ground for growth. It is the unexpected that offers the invitation to grow--to do the work; to be what is required of us to make a success of the position we’re in. What I’ve discovered is that when we get something unexpectedly good, we can learn to do what we need to do to be what someone thinks we are or can be. If we don’t let our imposter syndrome feelings about ourselves change by embracing the opportunity to grow, then the opportunity is squandered.?

I’ve also realized that the unwelcome, startling feeling of discomfort, the fear that “this chair is too big” and the terror that I won’t be able to do this, is actually welcome.?

It’s an invitation to stop masquerading as someone we weren’t meant to be.

By becoming the person we can be.