My (Therapist) Imposter Syndrome

We hear people talk about imposter syndrome all the time. It shows up in articles, podcasts, and social media, and I hear about it often from clients too. But for many of us, it isn’t just an idea — it’s a quiet, painful belief that feels very real: “I’m not good enough. One day people will see the truth about me.”
There’s a deep fear underneath that belief — a fear of being judged, rejected, or seen as inadequate. So we learn to hide the parts of ourselves that feel unsure. We try to look confident, capable, put-together. And because we don’t talk openly about this, it can feel like we’re the only ones struggling. Everyone else seems so sure of themselves. Why can’t I be like that?
Even when we know in our head that many people struggle with imposter feelings, we don’t really believe it. And when we start comparing ourselves to others, the shame only grows louder: You should have it together. You’re falling behind. You’ve failed. You are not enough. It becomes a trap — and a very familiar one.

I have struggled with this, too.

People sometimes assume therapists don’t feel this way, but we do. I’ve lived with imposter feelings for much of my life. As a therapist, these fears show up in different ways: What if I’m not a good enough therapist? What if I don’t know enough? What if my clients see the parts of me that feel unsure or inadequate?
To cope, I worked harder. I invested in learning — trainings, workshops, new models, certifications. These things helped me grow, but they didn’t quiet the deeper fear.

Where it began.

These beliefs started early. As a little girl, I learned that love had to be earned through trying hard, being good, and not messing up. That message stayed with me into my adult life.
Living this way is exhausting. When I couldn’t keep up, I shut down. I couldn’t focus and felt unmotivated. I procrastinated or avoided starting things I cared about. And then the shame got louder: See? You can't get it together. You’re not good enough. Even simple compliments felt undeserved. I would think, If they really knew what I’m like on the inside, they wouldn’t say that.

Talking about it in therapy.

I brought these fears to my therapist many times. She has always been open with me that she struggles with imposter feelings too, and hearing that was liberating — she met me human to human.
But something shifted the day she said:
“Maybe it will never completely go away, and this will always be part of us. So why not expect it to show up and embrace it? And remember it’s not the truth of who we are.”
I felt relieved. I didn’t have to fight the feeling anymore. I could let it be there without letting it define me. Even now, these feelings still come and go in waves — but they don’t hold the same power they once did.

Turning toward the younger part of me.

As time went on, I learned to tend to the younger part of me — the little girl who tried so hard and believed she had to earn love and acceptance. She had carried too much for far too long. She was exhausted. I learned to hold her with compassion and to let her know she didn’t have to keep striving anymore.

What became true over time.

Slowly, another truth emerged. Deep inside, I do feel confident that I’m a good therapist.
I know my work.
I care deeply about the people I sit with.
I do my best to show up with authenticity.
What I offer isn’t perfection — it’s presence, realness, and safety.
Sometimes I share small pieces of this journey with clients, and they’re often surprised. But it helps them feel less alone and softens their shame. It reminds both of us that doubting ourselves doesn’t mean something is wrong with us — it means we’re human.
And maybe that’s the point.
None of us has it all together.
We’re all learning.
We’re all growing.
And we are actually okay the way we are.

Maybe being real with each other — not perfect — is what actually heals.

If any of this resonates with you, and you’re looking for a compassionate space to explore these tender parts of your story, I’d be honored to walk alongside you. You’re welcome to reach out if this feels like the right next step for you.

I’m Iihae Shin, LMFT, offering online therapy for adults in Pasadena and across California. I support people navigating imposter syndrome, anxiety, and early relationship wounds through a gentle, somatic, and relational approach.

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