“We are who we believe we are.” ~CS Lewis
Have you ever found yourself hiding behind the term “Imposter Syndrome”? I know I’ve experienced this more times than I’d like to admit.
We hear this phrase so often these days that it has almost become a catch-all term for our fears, doubts, and insecurities. But what if I told you that imposter syndrome isn’t what you think it is? What if it was something deeper than your career or the role you play in life, something that stayed with you longer?
Let me take you on a journey that might reflect your own. It starts in a place familiar to many of us: childhood.
My first taste of “less than” came when I was in first grade at a Catholic elementary school in Lawrence, Kansas.
I remember sitting around on the gray carpet with my classmates, already feeling small and uncertain. A boy named AJ, whose words still echo in my mind, said, “Take off your mask.” I was too young to understand what he meant, but my insecure little heart thought it was Comments on my appearance. Is my face shape not good enough? Do I need to wear a mask to hide behind?
When the teacher asked me to spell the word “bowl”, I already felt unsure about myself. Such a simple statement, but in that moment, it felt like an impossible challenge.
My heart raced as I struggled to find those letters, my face turned fire engine red and I cowered into myself as the giggles of my peers filled the air.
The harder I tried to hide it, the redder and more embarrassed I became. I don’t remember how long it took the teacher to turn to another student, but I do remember hearing a profound message deep within. The message was clear: I was “stupid…and probably ugly.” This moment became the cornerstone of my confidence.
A few years later, as a high school junior, I moved from Kansas to Cleveland. Moving across the country in the middle of high school rocked my world.
The new school was huge, so big that I felt like a blob, invisible and out of sight. From that day in first grade, my insecurities came flooding back.
Dressed in ripped jeans, a baggy T-shirt, and sandals—perfectly acceptable Kansas high school attire—I found myself just trying to survive in this new world of girls dressed like they were straight out of a nineties scene out of movies inability. I feel like I don’t belong here.
One day, in math class, my teacher, Mr. Dillon, came to see me. The question was simple, but I was stunned. My mind went blank, overwhelmed by the pressure to fit in, be seen by the kids in the class, and make friends. I’m speechless.
As I sat there looking at him, his words stung me: “Have you even passed the third grade?”
I wanted to disappear, to escape the embarrassment burning in my cheeks and the tears welling up in my eyes.
There was silence in the classroom, his words hung in the air, and I felt every pair of eyes looking at me. In that moment, all I could feel was judgment. I wanted to be noticed, but not like this. I was “stupid” again and backed down again.
These moments, while insignificant in the grand narrative of life, were monumental in shaping who I believe I am. I stood back, rarely raising my hands, and counted the children in front of me and then the passages in the novel so I could rehearse my lines and avoid being caught off guard.
I don’t listen to the world around me; I just practice my words, hoping desperately that I don’t reveal my own shortcomings.
I learned that if I raise my hand for the things I know, then maybe I can stay silent for the things I don’t know. I adapted. I stayed small, blending into the background, afraid of being noticed, afraid of being labeled “stupid” again.
But life has a funny way of unfolding. Despite my ingrained belief that I wasn’t smart enough, I found evidence that I wasn’t actually stupid.
I eventually found success when I least expected it. Right out of college, I got a sales job and even unknowingly became the top sales account representative in the country. I didn’t even know there was a ranking system!
Then, in my next role, to my surprise, I was named Rookie of the Year again. It’s not that I have lofty ambitions – far from it. I just try my best without the burden of expectations or fear of failure weighing me down.
If I had known about these accolades ahead of time, I’m sure I would have self-sabotaged myself by believing that someone like me could never be so successful. The labels I adopted as a child are still there, lurking in the background, ready to pull me down.
But I didn’t realize at the time that those labels and those beliefs were never really mine. They are someone else’s words, given to me and accepted without question. They became part of my internal belief system and shaped the core of how I viewed myself.
Recently, I had lunch with a dear friend, a woman who has built an incredible career and is dedicated to empowering young girls. She is someone I deeply admire. When I asked her, “What’s next for you?” she paused and said, “I know where I want to go, but imposter syndrome is holding me back.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This woman created a thriving career and positively impacted the lives of thousands of people, yet she was still questioning herself. I had to dig deeper. When I asked her how she felt, she paused again and said, “I’m a failure.”
That’s it – the truth. This isn’t imposter syndrome at all. It was an old belief ingrained in her from childhood that had never fully healed.
She shared how she struggled in school, how she was held back in third grade, and how she lived up to her parents’ expectations. Despite her great success, she still considered herself a “loser.”
Aren’t many of us like this? We use the term “imposter syndrome” to describe the fear of exposure, but we hide behind old, unhealed wounds. We are looking for ways to stay safe and avoid touching our true power because deep down, we still believe the lies we were told as children.
After nearly a decade of healing, we finally understood that the labels we put on ourselves are often the very things that hold us back. It’s not other people’s opinions, our situation, or our circumstances—it’s our own inner belief system. This belief system shapes the core of how we see ourselves, but it’s often clouded by the hurts, fears, and insecurities we’ve built up over the years.
Peeling back those layers is hard work. It requires a willingness to confront the parts of ourselves we have hidden away and to question the narratives we have accepted as truth. But underneath these layers lies our truest selves—our brave, smart, strong, etc. selves.
So, I ask you: If the world didn’t tell you who they think you are, who would you be? What would you do if you let go of labels and embraced your core truth?
I started to forgive those who labeled me “stupid”—because I now know that wasn’t their truest self. It was their own layers of pain, their own insecurities, projected onto me. I forgive myself for believing them and carrying their words with me for so long.
It’s a loving call to action, a call to be curious about your true self. Your soul has a purpose, and your truest self has much to offer the world. I know it may seem like just another motivational blog, but it’s so much more than that. I urge you to look deeper, find your truth, and don’t believe everything you think!
Somewhere inside of you, there are some untrue beliefs, and if you release them, you will feel lighter, more open, and see the abundance that awaits you. Don’t let labels and layers hold you back anymore. Peel them away one by one and step into who you are meant to be.
You are not someone else’s beliefs imposed on you. You have many more. It’s time to stop believing your beliefs and start believing in yourself.
About Molly Rubesh
Molly Rubesh is a life coach and author who helps women embrace their true power and live a heart-led life. After going through divorce, grief, and career changes, she now guides others to let go of their fears and follow their hearts. Get her free guide, 5 Ways to Survive Without a Safety Net, and start your journey to a braver, more fulfilling life.
