Human or Bog Mummy? An Inside Look at Imposter Syndrome

I’m doing something different this week. This isn’t your regular “what I’ve learned this week about Graphic Design” post. It’s more like…“what I’ve been learning about myself over the last two years.” I’ve been meaning to talk about Imposter Syndrome. It was brought up in our very first week of class this month and I’ve been sitting on this blog post ever since. Hoo, boy. I’m familiar with it, but probably not in the way that you think. Imposter Syndrome, to put it simply is when you feel you aren’t as good at something as people say or seem to think you are and one day they’re going to find out you’re a big liar who’s been tricking them all this time and you’re actually a bog mummy in disguise.

Lots of people feel this way. I feel this way. But not about my design skills, or my intelligence, or my ability to perform a task. I keep proving to myself that I’m capable enough. I’ve had straight A’s the entire time I’ve been in college. I got an A in algebra for math’s sake, and I was terrified that I was going to fail. I mean, I literally did nothing besides math for that entire month and it absolutely kicked my butt, but I did it, and I was smart enough to teach myself half the material before the professor even covered it in class. I’ve since forgotten everything.

No. My imposter syndrome deals more with everyone finding out I probably don’t actually want to be here and that I’ve already made up my mind to never connect with anyone socially ever. I put on a person that’s happy and passionate and excited to be present and willing to make friends, but one day you’re going to find out I’m a bog mummy. You’re going to find out I’m depressed, and sometimes so paralyzed with anxiety that I can’t even ask my boss from across the room to send me a poster so I can stick it in a promotional email. You’re going to find out that opening up to people and telling them things about myself is like trekking across Mordor and so I refuse to do it in the first place. Sometimes I get brave and I do it anyway, and I’m met with mocking or dismissal. I don’t know which is worse. I’ve been dismissed more than I’ve been mocked, so maybe that feels worse because there’s nothing to stand up against and feel empowered for battling. Sometimes I write a blog post that’s too emotional and it doesn’t matter because people will never read it anyway.

Opening up to people is hard, and I’ve learned how to be a master at not doing that because of many layers of a Trauma Burrito and telling you about those would be opening up, which we’ve established I do not do. I’ve tried so hard with this degree and every project that I make feels a little bit vulnerable, but yet it’s still so surface level. I want desperately to be fully open with people, but how can I do that when it still feels unsafe?

I had another existential crisis (there have been many throughout pursuing this degree) about this class, because I knew what it was going to involve. I can do the work. I am skilled and talented enough. But I’m going to fail because I can’t and won’t throw the ring into the fire of connecting with other humans, and you’re going to find out.

Congratulations. You just met a bog mummy.

"It's the job that's never started as takes longest to finish." J.R.R. Tolkien