The Secret To Overcoming Impostor Syndrome (No Matter How Deep-Rooted It Is)

Put simply, if we want to manifest successfully, we must decrease the volume of the voice in our heads that tells us we can't do it.

The SNS is based in our brain stem primarily; it is the oldest part of our brain and has been with us for millions of years. Essentially, its job was to keep us alive in our original niche environment.

As a result, it is the very thing that has been associated with our survival as a species, and that is why it is so deeply rooted and attached to us.

As the ancient key to our success as organic life, the SNS remains with us today as a prevalent force within our subconscious resulting in actions it believes are beneficial to our survival.

In other words, evolution typically does not discard; it includes. Additionally, while the attributes of the SNS served a purpose when, as a species, we lived on the savanna in Africa, in modern society, for many, it results in a negative dialogue in one's head.

In a sense, negativity is the first language of our species, and we must learn, slowly and painstakingly, to speak a new one. 

The problem is, where the SNS once protected our physical bodies from immediate physical dangers, it has followed us into our modern world and now tries to protect our sense of self from the countless small assaults of our interconnected reality.

Where the fight response may once have helped us defend ourselves against a marauding tiger, it now causes us to fight against the parts of ourselves that we believe do not measure up, triggering overpowering emotions of shame and the feeling that we are not good enough.

The volume of the inner critic and its sense of relational threat ("What will people think? Who do you think you are?") is derived from the ancient power of the SNS, now deployed in a chronic maladaptation; it has undergone an unfortunate metamorphosis into the inner critic we know all too well today. 

Particularly tricky for us as manifesters is the "negativity bias," a system of value tagging that makes warnings of danger stand out as most salient in the minds to get us to pay attention.

One of the side effects of our evolutionary path is that in the process of coming into ourselves as a species, negative commentary about ourselves became classified in the same way by the mind as actual dangers.

Therefore, due to what is essentially a glitch in our filing system, our negative commentary sticks to us and stands out disproportionately in the mind. As our intelligence as a species increased, the negativity bias1 hijacked our thinking mind, and then we started making comparisons and connections that are not really valid.

If we tell ourselves, "I cannot do this," or "I am afraid of that," or "Gosh, if I do this, there will be this and this and this consequence," these are in some ways protective attitudes. But then you take it to the next level, which is, "Well, I cannot do anything. I am not really good enough as a person." 

What began as a basic survival mechanism has now mutated into a personal identity, as if what we perceive as our personal failings are innate and beyond our control. In fact, it is just that our body and mind have become addicted to the powerful negative emotions of fear, anxiety, and despair, which at one time were associated with self-protection.

Therefore, our addiction to fear, and our addiction to a limited sense of self, have become fused as one, to the point where we experience them as seemingly inseparable. As a result, it is as if we have created a prison for ourselves that limits our self-agency.

Each time we believe the inner critic's negative statements, we are adding a brick to the wall of our self-created prison. And the more of these statements we make, the higher the walls get, and the darker it starts getting inside.

And in fact, the walls start coming in on us because they become more confining and limiting to the point that we believe everything we are told negatively about ourselves, and by doing so we give up our agency to manifest change. We have given it all away to this voice that we thought meant something when it did not mean anything at all.

As an example, I was giving a lecture on impostor syndrome to a group of health care executives, and a woman in her 50s stood up. She was crying. In a trembling voice, she said, "My father told me I would never be anything, and I had to prove him wrong." She is now an RN with a Ph.D. in nursing.

But her father's words had hung over her throughout her entire life. Such a negative childhood experience can indeed be a strong driver of our behavior, but it is often a painful, unhealthy one. This is the power of these negative narratives that get embedded in one's head.

Think of how many people are destroyed by such statements and never live up to their potential. Some of us carry these negative stories our entire lives, achieving a "successful" career yet feeling empty and unfulfilled because we cannot escape that negative inner dialogue. 

Compare the words of this woman's father to another parent telling his child, "Listen, I love you. You are one of the smartest people I know. You can accomplish anything you want with your grit and your perseverance and your intelligence. I am so proud of you, and I have no doubt that you are going to be able to do this. Know that I will always be there for you, no matter what."

When that child faces adversity in pursuit of their goals, the child no longer has that negative voice talking in their head. Instead, they will confront the challenge thinking, "Well, my parents believed in me. My friends believe in me. They are there for me. I can do this."