These Sweet Instincts Ruin My Life: Impostor Syndrome as a Form of Self-Deception

Touching pen to paper, or, more often nowadays, opening a new document on Microsoft Word, doesn’t seem like too stressful of a task, right? That is until you factor in imposter syndrome, a type of self-deception that is characterized by “persistent doubt concerning one's abilities or accomplishments.”  Every time I sit down to write, I ask myself, “am I really skilled enough to pull this off?” or think, “this is never going to be good enough, no matter how hard I try.” And if you were curious…yes, those same thoughts are coursing through me at this very moment, even while typing up this article about impostor syndrome. This phenomenon plagues me and so many others every day, making us question our adequacy in our personal, professional, and academic lives.

While preparing to write and, frankly, procrastinating on this piece due to my aforementioned insecurities, I came across a song called “Imposter Syndrome” by Sidney Gish. Curious about it, I pressed play and was immediately thrown into an almost 5-minute journey through Gish’s relentless self-doubt. A lot of the doubt heavily resonated with me and reflected my encounters with the stubborn psychological condition. Initially, the song seemed relatively upbeat and cheerful, but upon further inspection, Gish’s “Impostor Syndrome” directly referenced the reality of her struggles with her inner monologue and her feelings of fraudulence in her everyday life.

When I was a Senior in high school, I was picked to sing the solo in my a cappella group’s competition performance. Almost immediately after I was selected for the part, I began to doubt my capabilities and question how I could have been chosen as the best fit for the song. These feelings always started with a tiny, nagging voice in my head, but would quickly snowball into a complete and insane breakdown of my entire personality and accomplishments or, as my mind would like to convince me, lack thereof. 

Gish illustrates this perfectly in the song, starting with the simple, almost playful line, “Unfortunately, I am my own dog, my own fur companion, my own old lady on a forum who types in glittery decorum.” Here, she likens herself to a dog or an old woman trying to use social media, commenting on her own perceived awkward social skills and non-human behaviors. The chorus, however, immediately spirals into an existential crisis in which Gish asks herself. She asks, “What’s a human being gotta be like?” and wonders whether she should have gone down the rabbit hole of trying to define her anxieties in the first place.

Despite our group placing first in both our quarter- and semi-finals, I continued to undermine myself and my abilities, convinced that it was a miracle the judges liked us despite my “less-than-ideal” performance. In this situation and countless others, my self-deprecating thoughts overpowered all positive thoughts. They put me in a sort of paralyzed state where I couldn’t continue what I was doing or make any worthwhile attempts to escape the feeling that I’m never good enough.

Gish scatters other homages to impostor syndrome throughout her song of the same name. She works hard to build a case that she does not belong anywhere, claiming that she is “grossly under-qualified” to be a human but “grossly overqualified” as a dog and doesn’t “blend in at PetSmart” or Walmart. When I spiral into bouts of impostorism, it is easy to isolate myself from the rest of the world and tell myself that I’m not like anyone else…not in the inspirational “I’m unique and that’s a good thing!” type of way. Gish also describes her life as an out-of-body experience in which she takes no credit for the ideas she has or the actions she takes. She states, “Unfortunately, I take myself out walking every day and I hand my legs to the feet and I give my head to the leash” and that, “Nobody outs behavioral Frankenstein.” With this line, in particular, she implies that she simply stole her personality and musical style from the influences around her, “Frankenstein-ing” different people’s ideas and characteristics together. Once again, she discredits herself and her achievements. I feel the same way about my skills, often wondering when people are going to realize that I’m “not as good of a singer, writer, student,” and so on as people think that I am. As she repeats in each chorus, “These sweet instincts ruin my life,” emphasizing that her tendencies to discredit herself have negative consequences.

For me, some things that usually help to ease my impostor syndrome, when I notice it, are reminding myself of my capabilities and re-framing my focus through music and deep, controlled breaths. Another method that puts my thoughts into perspective is remembering that other people share my experiences of self-doubt, which is only possible through open communication. “Impostor Syndrome” is an outlet for Gish to express her feelings and share her story, but it also acts as a conversation-starter about impostor syndrome and a reminder that the condition does exist and isn’t a figment of anyone’s imagination. The “sweet instincts” that Gish mentions over and over again “ruin [her] life” for a short time, but they don’t cause irreparable damage. Healing starts with knowing I’m not alone (or incompetent for that matter) and “Impostor Syndrome” delivers just this message.