I’ve always had that voice whispering (sometimes shouting) in my head.
“You're not good enough”
“You're not smart enough”.
It can happen while I’m in a meeting. Or while I’m in the middle of a pitch.
Last month, It happened while I was giving a talk.
I was telling founders how they can build and launch their first MVP. There was a about 20 budding entrepreneurs in the room and all of them had their eyes glued to me.
For context, I’ve built MVPs countless of times. I know how to do it and most importantly how to launch them.
It’s not as if I’ve never done it before.
But that inside voice keeps getting louder.
“Why should these people even trust me?”
Imposter Syndrome is a real thing.
No matter how many times I’ve tried to stop that inside imposter, I’ve realised that voice never goes away.
It’s felt like trying to hold back the tide.
Impossible.
And that makes sense to me.
Because in many ways, high achievement is programmed into us from a young age.
At home, we’re often compared to siblings or other kids:
“Are you better than them?”
At school, we’re ranked and assessed, constantly measuring ourselves against others:
“Can I get better grades than them?”
Then comes university:
“Am I smarter than them?”
And later in our careers:
“Can I get more done than them?”
The comparison never really stops.
As a high achiever, you’re always trying to push your own boundaries. And the easiest way to do that is by setting your baseline against others.
Which means that inner voice of self-doubt often carries a subtle double meaning:
"You need to get better."
I’m not saying this is healthy.
In fact, it often feels like the opposite.
Constant comparison and self-criticism probably sets off alarm bells for most therapists.
But there’s also something useful in it.
That voice keeps me honest.
It pushes me to improve.
It challenges me not to get complacent.
So from now on, whenever I hear that voice:
I’ll acknowledge it, sometimes even out loud.
I’ll recognise that it’s tied to my drive for self-improvement.
And I’ll respect the diligence it encourages in my work.
Because maybe imposter syndrome isn’t just self-doubt.
Maybe it’s the quiet voice that keeps high achievers moving forward.
The world needs that.