The Impostor

"Impostor syndrome is a psychological occurrence in which an individual doubts their skills, talents, or accomplishments and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a fraud."

Impostor syndrome emphasized the definition upon skills, talents, and accomplishments, but I personally feel like my sense of impostor-ness (?) heavily resided on my identity.

I once had a job interview where the interviewer asked me "what do you think the ideal teacher is like?" (I was applying for a teaching job)  and "do you think you are that kind of teacher?". I responded accordingly and basically said no, I wasn't at all the ideal type of teacher that my standard set upon. Suffice to say I didn't get the job, but since then I kept asking myself about the ideal "me".

Who am I? What am I aiming for? Did I even want to teach for the rest of my life?

My first impression almost always subconsciously thought that everyone else knows what they're doing, and I'm the clueless sheep in this jungle of adulthood.

I met one cool person and I immediately put them on a pedestal. They mess up and that whole image is crumbling, in turn I no longer am fond of them. 

I always have this ideal image of someone else based on their identity role. Met a professor? Immediately my brain goes "whoa, what a genius!", which, of course not saying that it's wrong. But most times just because they're a genius doesn't mean they're perfect, you know. I learned rather recently that someone can be situated on a relatively high position, whether it's job or academia, and they're not always perfect.

We're only human, you know.

But there was a time when I was naive enough to divide the world between those "who knows what they're doing" adults and "who has zero clue of the world" misfits. And I used to lock myself in the latter box, finding solace in the echo chamber of emo jams. I used to think of those music as my friends, the sad lyrics and the words expressing their hollowness, since they resonate with me so much. "We don't belong" they chimed inbetween those pounding drums and guitar riffs.

I listened to those music on my Walkman during school lunch breaks. The white hijab covering the earphone wires from my ears to the phone on my chest pocket, world out, music in. If you asked me then what the ideal student is like, I would say it's totally someone like me. Achieving high grades, lots of friends, and... well, to me the ideal student just needs to get high grades. Overall that bar didn't cover more aspects like organizational skills, charisma and sports, but I did set high standard for one particular thing: grade. And I fulfilled that criteria without seemed like trying too much.

There are two takeaways from that moment: first, the standard itself is subjective and second, I was a very happy student.

I didn't even intend to be the achieving student from the start, but once I obtained straight As in my elementary school year, the momentum was established to keep moving towards that direction. And boy did I sprint without looking left and right. I was happy with myself particularly because I didn't see how I would be unhappy.

Looking back, I knew I did miss moments that make elementary school, middle school, and high school worthwhile. But I wasn't aware of those, so I was content. I remember that I got bullied by a particular boy during my elementary year, but I was so oblivious that I didn't even *know* I was bullied. I remember I missed out on the middle school after-graduation prom party (and basically my whole senior year) to attend a long quarantine for science olympiad, but I had good friends and academically achieving so it wasn't a big deal. Ignorance is bliss, ey?

High school times weren't even that memorable, only bits and pieces of memories and regret that I didn't pursue something other than academic. I figured that college times is where my sprint seemed to have passed the finish line and I had the moment of revelation as I take in what's surrounding me. The standards began to get higher - or should I say, broader?

What previously did not get under my radar began to manifest itself in front of me. Friendship. Romance. Communication. Interpersonal affairs that I wouldn't usually comprehend becoming hard to ignore. Hardships. Heartbreak. Feelings of insecurity and inadequacy.

I still had my weapon of high-grade exam score plutonium, but there was a sense of lost-ness. I no longer knew what I had to do, now that I'm at that stage. The accomplishments seemed futile (not trying to be ungrateful). Impostors' syndrome, now that I'm in the so-called nest of acadmic excellency.

Everyone seems to know what they're doing. Everyone seems to be doing great. Even if they're not, they still seem to have a sense of purpose, unlike me.

But little did I know that academic excellency does not equate perfection. Just because your classmate is a quantum mechanics prodigy, doesn't mean he can hold a conversation with you. Just because one of your colleagues is a great coder, doesn't mean he's not an asshole who wouldn't break your heart. Life began to take form in its imperfection, flawless foundation being wiped away.

During my post-grad study I've been encountering actual projects that make me realize that we're all ultimately humans. Professors also make mistakes. The important thing is how we learn from them. One of my friends told me that he found solace at the fact that even our supervisors (the PhD ones) are kinda winging it in their jobs. Projects are plenty and we only have 24 hours a day. Our brain needs energy and nourishment and refreshments. Helps are obviously needed.

It was recently that I learned to become human, to learn that others are human too. I found a... uh.... let's say, weakness of my own that is a struggle to treat, and my therapist told me to be more appreciative of myself. At first I was like, "what's there to appreciate?" since I wasn't as academically excellent as my past self. And that's exactly the problem. Do I have to be straight A student to love myself? The initial answer was "yes", but as I ponder the logic behind that answer, I knew that ultimately it's not right.

If you have to be a straight A student to love yourself, when is it going to end? What if I graduate and there is no longer straight As to gain? Would you stop loving yourself then? Or would you set yourself another high standard as a means to love yourself? The former happened to me. I stopped loving myself and it almost cost me my life. It was by surviving and moving forward that I found life only makes sense if you are kind to yourself, just like you would to others.

I learned that by allowing myself to sometimes get a C or B is how I can be truly free from the confine that my past self set for me. There was relief in knowing that the world does not end even if I failed one semester. And a little hint of sadness because I'm not the main protagonist of this life.

Maybe I can get a brighter glimpse of the future if I can keep being kind to myself. Reminding myself that just because I'm human and I'm prone to mistakes, doesn't mean that I don't deserve a job. Doesn't mean that I don't deserve a decent pay. Doesn't mean that I deserve to be a subject of abuse.

I must admit that my impostor syndrome is kicking in because I'm recently finished with my post-grad and now I'm looking for jobs. That one job interview would always ring inside me, "do you think you are the ideal kind of [human job]?"

I would have the answer ready by then.