My Imposter Syndrome Is Gone. Here’s What Changed.
My imposter syndrome started when I entered college, roughly 15 years ago.
But this morning, as I mentally prepared for an upcoming interview at a highly respected company, something struck me:
I no longer feel imposter syndrome.
That realization felt... strange. Not triumphant. Just still.
Like waking up and realizing a heavy weight you've always carried quietly slipped off while you were sleeping.
For years, imposter syndrome was part of my identity. A shadow I never asked for, but one I adapted to—compensated for.
It colored how I walked into rooms, how I introduced myself, how I second-guessed even the value I brought to others.
And so today, feeling its absence made me pause.
I asked myself: Why now? Why is it gone?
This is my reflection—and I hope it helps someone who still carries that shadow.
The Origins of My Imposter Syndrome
I am the youngest of six siblings.
And from a young age, I was told I "didn’t know any better."
It wasn’t said literally or cruelly—it was just... normalized and felt. The role I played. The overlooked voice in a big family.
That dynamic planted a seed early:
You don’t know enough. You’re not credible. Your thoughts don’t carry weight.
This followed me, very deep.
Even when I studied biomedical engineering at UC San Diego, I was drawn to robotics and mechanical engineering. I pivoted—without the “proper” degree. I got jobs in mechanical engineering roles. But instead of celebrating that transition, I doubted myself constantly.
To “earn” my seat at the table, I even went back to school—studying mechanical engineering at UC Berkeley.
But even with that new degree from a top ranked university… the imposter syndrome stayed.
For years, I’d listen in on conversations between mentees and mentors.
"Do you ever feel imposter syndrome?" someone would ask.
The answer was always: “Yes, from time to time.”
And so I carried it too, thinking it was normal. A forever companion.
Until now.
The First Shift: The Power of Reflection
Ten months ago, I built a new rhythm into my life.
I wake up early—around 5:30 or 6:00. I stretch. I meditate. I read.
But I don’t just consume books. I reflect. I write. I question myself.
Why do I feel avoidant about that thing?
Why did that interaction feel off?
What am I actually good at—and where am I still growing?
This consistent self-inquiry rewired my perspective.
Reflection helped me develop self-awareness.
And self-awareness helps you separate lies from truth.
I stopped telling myself I was a fraud, instead my subconscious was hungry — telling me there was so much more to learn.
I started noticing patterns of real progress. Real contributions. Real value.
Reflection showed me that imposter syndrome wasn’t truthful self-doubt. It was inherited.
It came from my upbringing, my degree, the roles I didn’t feel “qualified” for, societal constructs that tell you you’re not doing enough.
And none of those things actually defined what I was capable of.
I’ve written more about how reflection and emotional growth helped me rewire these beliefs—take a look at those reflections in my previous posts.
The Second Shift: The Power of Creation
The second major shift was this: I started creating. A lot.
I mentored. I taught. I helped others land jobs.
I hosted mental health workshops. I got even more involved with UC Berkeley events.
I contributed more at work—creating documentation, products, systems, solving problems no one else wanted to even try tackling. I became more autonomous.
I began writing, sharing — this substack and a book (hopefully publishing soon…).
And most importantly:
I started helping others grow.
That changed everything.
Because when you create—when people start turning to you for help, guidance, or inspiration—you slowly stop doubting whether you belong.
Imposter syndrome has a hard time coexisting with creation.
Creation is evidence.
It’s hard to believe you’re a fraud when people are learning from you.
I Outgrew the Need for Validation
This was the slowest transformation—but the most powerful.
In the past, I needed validation from managers, senior engineers, and technical mentors. I needed them to tell me I was “good” or what I should do next.
But now? I trust myself.
I know what brings value. I know how to deliver it.
I know how to spot inefficiencies, offer solutions, and empower others to do the same.
I’ve even started to outgrow those I once looked up to. Not in arrogance, but in alignment.
Their voice used to override mine. Now, I hear both—and I choose my own.
I don’t need to be the smartest in the room.
But I do need to be true to myself, grounded in reflection, and committed to learning.
That’s enough.
And sometimes, enough is everything.
What Viktor Frankl Taught Me About Meaning
Frankl once wrote:
“The meaning of life is to help others find theirs.”
That’s stayed with me.
Because as my imposter syndrome faded, my desire to contribute grew.
Now, I don’t just reflect for myself. I reflect to create something I can give back—like this post.
In fact, this entire writing process is a kind of symbiosis.
I take in ideas—conversations with coworkers, passages from books, reflections from my own life—and I merge them with my own truths.
And from that fusion, I create something new. Something meaningful.
That’s creation.
That’s contribution.
That’s freedom.
If You’re Still Feeling Imposter Syndrome, Here’s What I Hope You Know
You are not broken.
You don’t need to be fixed.
But you do deserve to feel peace.
Here’s where I’d invite you to start:
Reflect. Journal. Meditate. Ask hard questions. Learn who you are and radiate outwards what you want to project into this world.
Create. Mentor. Build. Share. Make something that helps others.
Let go of permission. You don’t need someone to tell you that you belong, don’t belong, or not doing enough. You already do.
You are capable of more than you think.
And the weight you’re carrying doesn’t have to come with you into tomorrow.
So no, I don’t feel imposter syndrome anymore.
And if one day I suddenly do? I know how to meet it—with reflection, with creation, and with trust in myself.
I hope you find your own version of that too.
And when you do, share it and create.
That’s how we light the way for each other.