A memoir about handling and understanding my personal experience with imposter’s syndrome.

Everyone says your twenties are the years you really find yourself, but I would argue rather that your twenties are the years most crucial in creating yourself. Everyone always says it is so important to stay true to yourself, but how can you do this when your sense of self if so intertwined with others’ visions of the ideal. In this project, I will be doing lots and lots of introspection. This introspection will begin with a personal analysis of myself into my own experience and growth through imposter syndrome. I will begin by reflecting on the environment I grew up in and around, I will then shift into the new struggles and revelations I have experienced during my time at Wake. Throughout, I will litter pieces of advice for those who may also wrestle with imposter’s syndrome and self-confidence.

To begin, it may be important to know a little bit about the background that sculpted me. I am from a very small town in northeast Tennessee. Roan Mountain is a community of about 1,400 people. Most of the folks from my town are very southern and hold very conservative views. My mother and I are also some of the only non-white people in my town. About a quarter of my town lives below the poverty line. My mother is a CT Tech and my father owns a small construction company. In many ways, we are very average, but we are also very different in a couple of ways. My stepfather (who I will refer to as my father) is white and has lived in Roan Mountain/ surrounding area for most of life, but my mother and I immigrated to the US in 2001. We were both born in the Philippines with Cebuano as our first language. I believe our mixed family has been accepted for the most part, but I also was much too young to see the backlash if any that came when my parents first got married. Southern culture surrounded me for the first 18 years of my life, and with that comes strong nuances of religion, traditional gender norms, and biases against unfamiliar groups or ideas. I grew up in a place that was not very open to forward-thinking when it comes to race and gender. It was not until my arrival at Wake that I realized how much of the culture of Roan Mountain was toxic and caused me to count my worth in my success, rather than who I am as an individual.

Note of Advice: As I now that I have come to Wake and have seen how wrong some of the ideas that were normalized in my hometown were, I also believe this may contribute to my feeling embarrassed and realizing I need to mask the part of myself that is inherently southern— which is a big part of me. One piece of advice I would give to people who feel similar here is, it is amazing to be proud of your culture as we are all so different and that is what makes you interesting. But also keep in mind that each of us is free thinkers and if something that you may have grown up hearing or believing does not hit you or other people right, it is worth it to inquire, research, and figure out why. None of us have all of the knowledge all the time, and coming into contact with new information and changing your beliefs based on this is simply how knowledge works. You are not betraying your roots by learning. But do not allow people to make you feel inferior just because you were born into a certain situation or location. Their assumptions do not matter as long as you know you have done your best to make compassionate and informed decisions about who you are and what you believe.

For most of my life, I felt as if I have to be ten times better than the other guy or girl to be acknowledged in this world. Since I was young, I have always stood apart from my peers academically, but I have always wanted to stand apart in other ways. I have always looked to be as outstanding as possible in every aspect. I have always sought to be the brightest, prettiest, and most fun. For a long time, this goal of perfection seemed to be a mechanism of self-improvement. I wanted to be as acceptable as possible in a place that usually hated or feared people that looked like me.

Note of Advice: Improve yourself because you love yourself not because you love the praise from others. The praise comes and goes. It will also never be enough. Find other metrics of how well you are doing. Some people will see you succeed and keep their mouths shut to spite you. This does not mean you are not growing, it only means they are not.

I remember working so hard junior and senior year of high school and being so proud of my ACT score and the fact that all the effort I had put into academics and extracurriculars finally came to fruition with my letter of acceptance into the Niswonger Scholarship Program. I also remember it all come crashing down when one of the smartest guys in my grade asked me how I did on the ACT. After I told him and he realized it was four points higher than the number he had told me, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Yeah, but I didn’t even have to study. You try too hard sometimes Lorraine.” Straight to the gut with that one.

Senior year was full of moments like this, moments where I did not even feel as if I could fully celebrate myself and my accomplishments. This was in direct opposition with the part of me that was trying to be as outstanding as possible, as to break the ugly stereotype that I had often heard growing up that people of color were lazy leeches and thieves who steal things from hard-working people. I had done everything within my power to prove myself worthy of Roan Mountain, but once the world saw how worthy I was and started rewarding me for it, Roan Mountain turned its back on me. I felt like I did not deserve what I received, as if I was stealing something from a more worthy candidate. I often heard, “Yeah, I could have gotten that scholarship too. I just didn’t turn the application in on time.” or “We get it you’re going to Wake, you don’t have to keep talking about it.” Again and again and again my accomplishments were belittled and ignored. People who I have spent my entire life trying to impress saw my work, saw me succeed, saw where I was headed, and became angry that this did not line up with the norm for a girl from Roan Mountain Tennessee. This has stayed with me.

Note of Advice: You are so allowed to be proud of yourself. You are so allowed to be confident. People become angry when they do not get what they did not work for, but you cannot put in the work for them. All you can do is grow and move on.

For years I was able to compete, my effort alone was able to give me an edge over the people around me. However, when I found myself at Wake Forest, I soon realized what got me here will not get me to where I want to be. I see the BMWs, the connections, the private school educations, the knowledge of unspoken rules, and the confidence many of the kids at Wake carry themselves with. I see how people have spent their lives being groomed to be comfortable around power, wealth, and prestige. I also see that I wasn’t. What got me here, won’t get me there. I see it. I can’t be at the top anymore. I feel it. I am paralyzed to even speak up in class. I live it.

This is one of the first time I have identified these pressure points. This fear of failure leads me to carry around a heavy mask day in and day out. Sometimes I leave the mask on for so long that I forget something else lies beneath. I want to be seen as competent, fun, pretty, magnetic, and chill with anything life throws my way. Not a tall order? I beg to differ.

During my first year at Wake, I walked around in fear that people would find out what sorority I was in and make assumptions about who I am off of that. I was constantly trying to prove that I was good enough in general, by joining clubs, making the grades, and staying social. In my sophomore year I joined the cheer team, yet another attempt to build more walls up, so others could not see me for what I was, or what I felt like I was. A poor, dense, country girl from Tennessee who is too nice and too ignorant to see the world as it actually is. I was so scared that if someone climbed all the walls I had worked so hard to build, they would be disappointed that there was actually nothing too interesting inside. I feel as if I am okay with letting people climb the wall, as long as I know that there will be another wall to protect me as soon as they finish the first one. Another wall, another persona, another accomplishment. But never truly me.

Note of Advice: Feel all the feels, and ask yourself where this is coming from.

Thankfully, that was not the end of the story. Something happened this semester, and I am not exactly sure what it was, that is why I am writing this blog. Coming into this year, I felt more confident than ever in who I was. This summer I spent a lot of time in the wilderness just taking in the beauty of nature and thinking about where I played into everything. I saw something in people that could fend for themselves in the wilderness that I wanted for myself, a grounded confidence. A confidence received from knowing oneself and what wants regardless of what the world sees as normal or successful.
Part of it was the fact that most of the people my year (most of the people I felt as if I were competing with) are studying abroad. I felt as if I could really embrace the part of myself that was an athlete, and in that, I found such a vibrant, welcoming community. Who would have known? As many of the athletes here are on scholarship, many of them do not fit into the mold of Wake students. I joined the cheer team to be seen as more worthy and acceptable to the greater Wake Forest population, but it gave me so much more than that. I now walk around campus with confidence in who I am. I feel as if I can be silly and random in public, which is a big deal to someone who spends the majority of their time curating a palatable version of themselves. I still fear that I use being an athlete as a crutch and that I feel more comfortable walking around with an athlete backpack than without one, but I know it is a process and this is a step in the right direction.

I realize now how anxiety-inducing it is to wear that mask at all times. I realize how awkward and unnatural it is, but I still can’t help but wear it. I see now how true it is that the bonds of oppression are compounding and invisible to people who do not experience it themselves. In my case, the class problem was not one I faced until my time at Wake. As my upbringing is one thing I will never be able to outrun, I am beginning to see the importance and beauty in using those experiences and learning from them rather than being embarrassed by them.

Note of advice: As someone who struggles with imposter’s syndrome this is easier said than done, but there is no way you are where you are by just a stroke of luck. You deserve the good, you are so enough it’s crazy.

Slowly, my conception of who I want to be is changing. I now see that spending all your time trying to conform to a mold you were never meant to fit is a miserable way to live. There are mechanisms in this world meant to push you down, but don’t let yourself be your own worst enemy. Be on your own side. There will be times you will be the only person you have on your side, and in these times it is important to know who you are and what you are capable of.

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