You know the voice in your head. The one that whispers, “You’re not good enough,” like it’s auditioning for the lead role in a soap opera? If you’ve ever balled up your courage to take on something new—a relationship, a job, or even that bold denim-on-denim look—and heard that voice, congratulations. You’ve met the charming monster known as Impostor Syndrome.
Here’s the hard truth: feeling like a fraud is almost guaranteed when you care deeply about what you’re trying to do. But here’s the good news: you can turn that uncertainty into your superpower. How do I know? Because once upon a time (read: not so long ago), I was the reigning queen of self-doubt. Here’s what I learned about quieting that inner critic and stepping into myself—not just in relationships, but in life.
Act I: Pretending You’re Not Freaking Out
I’ll start with a confession: when I left Charleston for my first semester at Spelman College, I faked my way through my first few weeks. I came armed with two suitcases and enough secondhand advice to fill a library, but I felt woefully out of place. My hallmates seemed effortlessly cool, trading Atlanta hot spots and talking about summer internships in D.C. Meanwhile, I was the girl who snuck packets of benne wafers into her desk drawer like cultural contraband. I loved my background, but I wondered if these witty, polished women would get it—or me.
I see it now for what it was: Impostor Syndrome in a cute blazer. It had me convinced I was an extra in someone else’s movie when, in reality, I was just the beginner on a long road to becoming the expert of… well, me.
Step 1: Call the Critic by Its Name
Impostor Syndrome thrives in the shadows, convincing you you’re the problem when the truth is you’re just new at something. Much like a Beyoncé concert ticket, self-doubt is expensive—requiring a steep mental cost of second-guessing and overthinking. Here’s the thing, though: when it shows up, you can choose not to let it take center stage.
So, step one? Name the feeling without shame. Even today, when I sit down to write—or put myself out there in a new relationship—I’ll ask, “Okay, am I feeling unworthy, or am I just nervous because this matters to me?” Nine times out of ten, it’s the latter. Feeling nervous doesn’t mean you’re unqualified; it means you care.
Act II: Learning on the Job (and in Love)
Fast forward to my early post-grad years: new city, new projects, and let’s just say some “learning experiences” in the romance department. I found myself sitting across from someone at a tiny café in Harlem, really liking the conversation but wondering if I was cool enough for them. Was I texting back too quickly? Laughing too much? Talking too little? Honestly, the mental gymnastics could’ve qualified me for the Olympics.
Turns out, overthinking your worth in any space, whether it’s work or love, just exhausts you. You’re better off showing up as yourself, flaws and all. Nobody wants a perfect partner (or colleague, for that matter); they want someone real.
Step 2: Leverage Your Strengths (Yes, You Have Them)
A tip I picked up—and still use—is leading with what you know you’re good at. For me, it was storytelling. I may not have known the difference between Soho and Noho (to this day, I’m just guessing), but I could listen intently and hold a great conversation. That still applies to every relationship I have, romantic or otherwise. Some people communicate with humor, others shine with words of affirmation. Figure out your authentic strength and lean in.
And if you don’t know your strengths yet? Ask the people who love you. Your best friend, your sibling, the cousin who FaceTimes you weekly. Odds are, they know what makes you magic even better than you do.
Act III: When Doubt Creeps Back In
Spoiler alert: even when you grow into your role—whether it’s becoming the nurturing partner, the boss at work, or simply the most confident version of you—doubt doesn’t disappear entirely. But here’s the kicker: it can stop being the dictator of your decisions.
Recently, I was asked to give a talk at a writing conference about blending cultural identity with creativity. The rush of insecurities hit me before I even opened my laptop to prepare. Could I do this? Was I the right voice? Yet mid-panic, I remembered something my grandmother told me: “You don’t have to be the voice for everyone. Just speak up for what you know.” And that’s exactly what I did.
Relationships work the same way. Whether you’re new to one or ten years in, there will be moments when you question yourself. The trick isn’t to fixate on being everything—that perfect communicator, the flawless giver—but to stick with what you know and trust that it’s enough.
Step 3: Practice Confidence—Even if You Don’t Totally Feel It
The funny thing about confidence? It doesn’t start fully formed. It grows like small herbs in a home garden—watered by effort, repetition, and the occasional whisper of “I think I’m getting it.” Confidence isn’t faking it ‘til you make it, though. It’s learning as you go and giving yourself permission to be bad at something before you’re good.
In dating, for instance, I used to worry about saying the right thing or presenting myself “perfectly,” but my best connections always happened when I loosened the grip on perfection. The same applies to your greater life journey: trust that showing up as a work-in-progress is a strength, not a weakness.
Epilogue: Bringing It All Together
Today, I hold onto every hard-won lesson my journey has brought me. From my grandma’s wisdom whispered over sweet tea to the many tender conversations where I gave myself permission to be uncertain, I’ve learned that doubt doesn’t have to be the enemy. Truthfully, it’s the secret handshake that bonds all of us trying to figure life out.
So, I’ll leave you with this: the next time Impostor Syndrome throws a party in your brain, show up anyway. Grab a dance floor spot, wave to the critic in the corner, and let it know, politely, “I’m staying—insecurities and all.” You’ve got everything you need to grow from doubt to confidence, from impostor to expert. Heck, you already are. The key now? Believe it.