Imposter syndrome can be a good thing, actually.

I’ve spent the last few years in rooms full of people who, on paper, seemed to know a lot more than me and have their whole road ahead all worked out. People with credentials and accolades, people who were seen as brilliant, people who governments all over the world wanted to meet with and get advice from and maybe eventually buy something from.

I frequently felt like I didn’t belong, and that any moment someone who didn’t believe in the things I believe in would go out of their way to let me know they felt the same way. That familiar voice in my head kept whispering that soon, they’d figure out I didn’t know enough to deserve to be there… even though I got there by acquiring the skill set to learn on the job even about the most technical things, and I was honest about what I did and didn’t know every step of the way.

But something unexpected happened. The more time I spent in those rooms, the more I started to see cracks not in myself, but in others. People I once thought were brilliant were often cornered by circumstances born of their own egotistical and presumptuous thinking. The more I learned, the more I understood I was surrounded by people who were confident to the point of blindness, never questioning themselves, and making the most basic mistakes because they simply assumed they had nothing important left to learn and the world would simply realize what they were working on was important, and reward them for it.

That’s when my whole perspective on imposter syndrome began to shift. I started to see that maybe my self-doubt, the thing I’d always seen as a weakness, was actually the thing that was keeping me sharp. It was keeping me grounded in a way those “brilliant” people never seemed to be. It was protecting me from becoming a version of myself that I couldn’t respect, and maybe couldn’t forgive either.

I used to think doubt meant I wasn’t good enough at something I hadn’t figured out yet… that I hadn’t earned my place at the table because I hadn’t put in enough work. But lately I’ve been grappling with the realization that the people who never doubted themselves were the ones I instinctively became more concerned about, and cautious around.

I used to think of imposter syndrome as something to shrug off, or shed, or beat into submission with sheer confidence and positive results… but lately, I’ve come to believe imposter syndrome isn’t something to be beaten at all. It’s something to be reframed. It has been a guide for me. It has kept me acutely, sometimes painfully, aware of what’s at stake. It has made sure I’m thinking about how my work impacts the people around me. It has been my ally in the battle for my own soul, and I am grateful for its service.

In the past, when I’ve walked into a room and felt out of place, as a college dropout, a guy who’s new to business, someone who’s still figuring out how to do things “right” after 5 or 10 or 15 years… I really envied the confidence of the people around me. But now, sometimes I see the hairline cracks forming that less honest, less concerned, less humble people haven’t yet noticed themselves. Their confidence blinds them to their own weaknesses. They make catastrophic mistakes because they don’t stop to question themselves… a skill that my so-called “imposter syndrome” has taught me to excel at.

It’s not that I’m smarter than them or that they’re any less capable than I am. Many of the people I learned these lessons from are brilliant in their own ways. But so many of them never really paused to reflect or to seek expert advice about the things they weren’t experienced in, and it shows.

So, doubting myself isn’t the liability I once thought it was. In fact, it’s the very thing that has kept me conscious of my need for honesty, humility, curiosity, and continued learning.

I no longer feel the need to “beat” imposter syndrome. I’ve started to get curious about it instead, whenever it crops up. Most of the time, it’s got nothing to do with a lack of ability. It’s fear. Fear of causing harm. Fear of taking unfairly. Fear of leaving people worse off than they would have been had I never shown up.

It’s taken me nearly fifteen years to realize that fear comes from a place of caring deeply about how I affect other people. If I didn’t care about others, I wouldn’t feel that doubt. So instead of running from it, I’m going to lean into it. Let it remind me that I’m deeply, deeply invested in getting it right and making some small slice of life better for someone no matter what I am doing. This is proof that I care, and after years of fighting with this part of me, I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it’s not a powerful enemy, but a powerful ally.

The people who feel like imposters are often the ones who care the most about being real. They’re the ones who are deeply invested in doing things right, and doing right by others. So when I feel like I don’t belong, I remind myself that it’s not because I’m out of place. It’s because I care deeply about how I affect the world around me, and that’s a good thing. In a world where many people are content to coast through, let life happen to them, and let themselves happen to life… an “imposter syndrome” that helps me care more deeply and strive to do better is something I’m going to be proud of from now on.