Hey grad student, you’re not an imposter.

Reader, I hear you. I know this narrative a little too intimately.

I’m in way over my head right now. What was I thinking? Why am I doing this? Oh no, I’m gonna fail. I don’t want to fail. What if they find out that I’m not really qualified to be doing this? It’s all going to come crashing down and then I’ll have nothing. I should just quit while I still can.

Well let me set the record straight. YOU ARE NOT AN IMPOSTER.

Take a step back. Breathe. Get perspective.

All the imposter syndrome is telling you is that you are doing a brave thing. It’s normal—expected even—to feel uncertain when you step into something new. I’m convinced that the imposter syndrome is simply the enemy coming after us to keep us from pursuing our God-ordained callings. And the closer we get, the more imposter syndrome will rage within.

Imposter syndrome is different from healthy fear. Healthy fear keeps you from touching fire, from walking into oncoming traffic, from bungee jumping. Healthy fear learns from experience to keep you safe.

Imposter syndrome, on the other hand, is the result of cultural narratives, anxiety, and self-doubt. Listening to the imposter voice will make you play it safe, but it will not necessarily keep you safe. You’re more likely to spend months or years frustrated with yourself for not taking the steps you wanted to take.

Listen to the voice in your head for just a second. What exactly is it saying? Are you afraid of failure? Of rejection? Of getting it wrong? That’s imposter syndrome. Your fears are real and valid. Decide for yourself if they’re worth caving to. I would guess not since you’re reading this letter. So allow me to remind you of your identity and calling to put that imposter voice in its place: far away from your internal dialogue.

Grad student, you are resilient.

Think about how much you overcame to get to this point. You’ve completed over 16 years of education! You have at least one degree. Don’t romanticize the past. Life happens. You learned so much in those experiences.

You learned how to study. You passed (aced?) college. You did well enough on the GRE to be considered for grad school. You know how to prioritize time. And you know when to give up studying so you can go mini-golfing with friends because less stress = better test-taking and memories are worth more than a single grade.

You also learned how to overcome failure, even if it was awful. That test you failed because you got bad news? It didn’t define you then, and it still does not define you now. You learned how to process the situation, embraced feedback, and clearly did better next time—or else you wouldn’t be here!

You learned to network. So much of our careers revolves around who we know. You leveraged your relationships strategically to get this far. So what if your research role model is not able to be your mentor right now? Take it in stride! You can find another mentor in the meantime and connect with your role model in a few years when you’re more established and they’re (hopefully) less busy.

You dealt with friend breakups (and maybe even romantic woes too), and you’re better for it. You’re more gracious, compassionate, and empathetic. You’ve overcome difficulty before, and I know you’re able to rise above your challenges now too.

You are resilient. No one gets to grad school by pure luck. You have major grit to continually put yourself out there to be rejected. It hasn’t crushed you yet, and this season is no different.

You are capable.

You were admitted to your grad program for a reason. It wasn’t chance. It wasn’t luck. YOU EARNED IT. You earned your spot. You’ve proven yourself before. You belong here.

Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do it. YOU CAN. I firmly believe that anyone can learn to do anything—and that includes YOU.

You want to present at a conference? The fact that you made it through grad school interviews means that you can communicate. Now go fine tune those powerpoint design and vocal presentation skills.

You want to start a podcast to communicate your research to the world? GO FOR IT! No one is more qualified to talk about your research than you! All other podcasting skills can be learned from online courses and mentors. You bring the most important piece: YOU.

You want to pass a course that you have to retake? Well, you have a leg up since you’ve already been exposed to the material. You’re capable of studying, of asking for help, of understanding difficult concepts. This is practice for learning new things throughout your career when you’ve launched from the safety of grad school.

Would you tell your best friend that they can’t do something they set their mind to? Of course not! So then why are you speaking this death-of-dreams narrative over yourself?

Maybe you’re walking this journey without another human who is able to provide the affirmation you need in this season. That’s okay—we all battle imposter syndrome in our own ways. If that’s the case, let me be that affirming voice for you today.

Grad student, you can. You can learn new things. You have the skills you need to pursue this dream. And if you don’t, I know that you will seek out the resources you need to learn new skills. You’re doing much better than you give yourself credit for.

And know that if you fail, it will be okay.

And by okay, I mean there are other ways to write this narrative. I’ll share mine, and you are welcome to borrow it. By okay, I mean that God has a plan, even in this. Okay in our book—a job, published articles, research awards—is not the same as okay in His book.

In Romans we read that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him (8:28). For our ultimate good. Maybe that job you weren’t selected for would have been toxic. Maybe that rejected journal article is God’s tool to teach you resilience. I don’t know, and I encourage you not to write the narrative. Just know that it ends good.

Remember, you are not defined by your situation. What matters most is how you handle difficulty. Remember how I said we’re conditioned by fear? If you cave to fear every time, it’ll be even harder to stand up to the imposter voice next time. But the more you learn to distinguish healthy fear from imposter syndrome, the better equipped you will be to look objectively at the situation that’s causing this raging monologue of self-doubt.

Consider this a gentle nudge from a friend to remember that you are more than your successes and failures. There are more jobs and more journals and more courses. So what if you gave up this time or your fear of failure came true? Acknowledge it. Grieve it. And then show back up.

Grad student, don’t take yourself out of the game.

By doing so, you’re saying to God, “I don’t trust you. I don’t believe that you’ll help me see this through.” And who are we to trust our imperfect, flawed selves over the creator of the universe?

Think about why you’re doing what you’re doing. You didn’t get here by accident. No. You followed a series of steps—maybe seemingly disjointed steps at times—that led you to this very place in this very time.

You’re here for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is, and maybe you don’t either. We might never know. But God does. He’s sovereign, which means your struggle to show up right now is not overlooked.

By continuing to show up, you’re being faithful to God. You’re honoring and glorifying Him. It’s our greatest calling as believers. And at the end of the day, there’s no better testimony to a life well lived.

And if you do allow the imposter narrative to win, know that it’s not the end.

You didn’t fail. Sometimes we need to take a step back. Taking a break is not the same as giving up. Use this time to heal. Work with a counselor to process your relationship with imposter syndrome and develop skills to combat that voice in the future.

And then try again.

You learned something from the last bout with the imposter syndrome. It won’t magically go away. In fact, I’d be concerned if it did. As long as you’re pursuing your calling, you’ll face the imposter monster. As with any skill, you’ll grow more adept at discerning this voice and pushing it aside. Make it your friend but don’t give it power.

Remember, you’re resilient. You’re capable. You’re doing a glorious work.

Fellow grad student, I’m here for you. I’m also learning—imperfectly—how to weather this storm.

And I’m rooting for you all the way.

xo, Emma