Imposter Syndrome at the Next Level

A few months ago I joined Social Finance and moved to the UK. It's one of the leading not-for-profits in the social impact space. The work matters. The room is excellent. The people are sharper than any team I've been part of.

And I've felt imposter syndrome like never before.

The pattern I keep noticing

This is not the first time. I felt it walking into my first paid engineering role. I felt it when I became CEO at Lambdaa. I felt it the first time I had to stand in front of a room of people I respected and lead a session.

Every time, I read it as a warning. You don't belong here. They'll figure it out. You moved too fast.

Every time, that read was wrong.

What it actually meant was much simpler: this is the first time you've done this. Of course it feels strange. The strangeness is not evidence of failure. It's evidence that you're somewhere you've never been.

The reframe that helped

I've stopped asking do I belong here? It's a question that has no useful answer. Either you say yes and feel like a fraud, or you say no and quietly start sabotaging the opportunity.

The better question is: what would the version of me who belonged here be doing this week?

That question moves you from feelings to action. Showing up early. Asking the question you're scared will sound stupid. Writing the doc. Sending the proposal. Doing the work the role actually requires, badly at first, then better.

After enough weeks of that, you stop asking the original question. You're not sure when it stopped. You're just doing the job.

The thing nobody mentions

Imposter syndrome doesn't fully go away. It gets quieter, but it shows up every time you level up. New role. New country. New responsibility. New audience. Each step rings the same bell.

That's actually useful information. If you never feel it, you're probably not stretching far enough. If you feel it constantly, you might be stretching too fast — but that's a much rarer problem than people pretend.

What I'd say to someone in the middle of it

Three things.

One. The feeling is not a verdict. It's a tax on growth.

Two. The room you're in chose to put you there. Trust their judgment more than your inner monologue, at least for the first six months.

Three. Do the work badly, then better, then well. There is no shortcut around the awkward middle. The other side of it is the version of you who looks back and can't quite remember why this felt so hard.

Keep going.