I still remember the first time someone called me an expert. I was standing in front of a room filled with eager participants at a cultural writing workshop I had been asked to teach. As I introduced myself, listing my degrees and experience—as you do in these moments of self-preservation—I saw the word “expert” printed on the flyer next to my name. My stomach dropped faster than a piñata at a toddler’s birthday. Expert? Me? Surely, there had been some mistake. I was just Isabela, the girl who wrote stories inspired by her abuela’s bedtime folktales. Yet here I was, allegedly a knower of things.

For anyone who has ever felt like they’ve snuck into a room they weren’t invited to, only to realize the room was actually built for them in the first place, you’re in the right place. Today, we’re going to talk about everyone’s least favorite third wheel: impostor syndrome. Yes, that lurking voice in your head whispering, “Who do you think you are?” It’s annoying, overbearing, and a total buzzkill. But like an unwanted guest, it can be managed—and maybe even shown the door.

What Does Impostor Syndrome Even Look Like?

Impostor syndrome doesn’t wear a neon sign that says “Hello, Low Self-Esteem!” It’s sneakier than that. For me, it showed up as over-preparing for jobs I was already qualified for or downplaying wins because I was convinced they were flukes. It’s that feeling you get when you crush a new recipe—ropa vieja from scratch, perhaps—but tell everyone at the table, “Oh, it’s nothing. I just got lucky with the meat.”

Sound familiar? Impostor syndrome makes itself at home when we fear we don’t measure up, no matter how much evidence—and how many delicious plates of ropa vieja—proves otherwise. This mental tug-of-war is common, especially among high achievers or those navigating spaces where they feel like “the only.” Trust me, I’ve been “the only” more times than I can count: the only Latina in a college internship, the only writer under 25 at a lit mag meeting, the only person loud enough to set the DJ straight when he messed up the salsa playlist at my cousin’s wedding.

But here’s the kicker: every time I felt out of place, I eventually realized I was more than capable of holding my own. It just took some work to believe it.

You’re Not Faking It—You’re Earning It

One common impostor syndrome trap is attributing success to external factors while downplaying your own contributions. For instance, landing a first date with someone amazing and thinking, “I bet they were just bored and swiped right randomly,” instead of recognizing, “Oh wait, maybe I am charming and pretty great.”

When my writing started getting published, I’d tell myself it was sheer luck or pity from editors who felt bad for a “small-town girl” (yes, I somehow managed to romanticize my very cosmopolitan upbringing). But a dear friend reminded me: “Isabela, you weren’t lucky. You worked for this. You wrote the thing, submitted the thing, and voila—the thing got published.”

Viewing success as earned rather than accidental takes practice. But every time you accomplish something, remind yourself that you’re part of the equation. Write it in notes on your phone, say it out loud to your reflection, or text it to your mom every time she forwards another chain email. (Just me? Okay.)

The Salsa Dance Principle: Learn by Doing

Impostor syndrome loves to hold us hostage in the fear of making mistakes. But avoiding missteps entirely? That’s not life—it’s a Netflix pilot that gets canceled after one episode. Here’s the truth: you learn by doing, messing up, and doing it better next time.

When I was younger, my abuela taught me how to salsa dance in her kitchen. I was awful at first—out of rhythm, stepping on her feet—but her advice has always stuck with me: “No te quedes pensando; simplemente baila.” (Translation: “Don’t overthink it; just dance.”)

The same applies when you’re stepping into a new role, career, or relationship. You won’t feel confident overnight, and that’s okay. Give yourself permission to show up imperfectly. Each misstep brings you closer to the confident stride of someone who knows their stuff—someone who earns that expert title, or that applause on the dance floor.

Small Wins Are Still Wins

People with impostor syndrome tend to overlook small victories while waiting for some mythical “big moment” to prove their worth once and for all (spoiler alert: no single moment does this). But real growth happens when you celebrate every step—every salsa step, every first date that wasn’t a total disaster, every email you sent without overthinking punctuation.

For me, a turning point came when I stopped brushing off compliments. Instead of saying, “Oh no, it was nothing,” I started practicing a simple “Thank you.” Did it feel awkward? Absolutely. But over time, it became second nature, and each “thank you” reinforced my belief that maybe—just maybe—I deserve this.

So, whether it’s getting through a tricky work week, navigating hard conversations with a partner, or finally nailing that signature red lipstick shade (hint: go bold!), treat it like the win it is. Dance full-out when no one’s watching.

Build Your Hype Squad

Every rom-com heroine has a go-to crew: That sassy best friend with great one-liners or the hilarious relative who panics and screams at all the right moments (shoutout to my cousins in Hialeah who truly have no chill). In the battles against impostor syndrome, having a reliable hype squad—friends, mentors, family, or even trusted colleagues—can be invaluable.

One of my closest friends, Sofía, always reminds me to reread the nice emails—or romantic texts, when relevant—that I instinctively ignore. “Keep receipts!” she says. “You deserve to see your impact.” Whether it’s feedback on a project, a compliment from a significant other, or a tiny win at work, share it with your squad and let them reflect the brilliance you struggle to see.

Also, be a champion for others. Sometimes, hyping someone else up strengthens your own belief that we’re all figuring it out as we go. Confidence is contagious—spread it around.

Quieting the Voice

That pesky “Who do you think you are?” voice doesn’t disappear overnight, but it does get quieter when faced with evidence. Every time you figure something out, adapt, or show up in a scary space, you’re building a case against the doubter in your head. And while I’ll never go so far as to kick out self-doubt entirely—tough love, after all, keeps you humble—it no longer drives the car. Now it just sits in the backseat alongside my bags of plantains from Publix.

So, to anyone fighting impostor syndrome: know that you’re not alone. Keep dancing, keep hyping, and don’t forget—expertise isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about being brave enough to show up, uncertain but willing, and say, “I’ll try.”

And if all else fails, just pretend you’re in a Cuban kitchen with your abuela saying, “No te quedes pensando; simplemente baila.” After all, you’ve got rhythm—you just have to believe it.