The Ultimate Imposter | Transracial Adoptee Edition

Imposter Syndrome is a hot topic lately. The phrase just needs to be uttered once and people will instantly raise their hands to show they experience this too. At times, it could be crippling. I would avoid starting tasks or taking risks because any mistake could result in my colleagues realizing I’m a total fraud, that I don’t belong in my PhD program, that I am incompetent. As I’ve begun to gain more confidence in myself (read Learning to Love Myself), I’ve begun to fight back against the Imposter Syndrome.

As a 5th-year doctoral candidate, I’ve begun mentoring younger students and offering advice to help them get through the arduous program. The anxiety and self-doubt I experience is extremely common. While they learn from me, I am also learning that I was not alone in my struggles. My cohort struggled. The cohorts before me struggled. We all were silent and isolated.

I found a key difference between my Imposter Syndrome and my friends’. As far as I know, I’m the only transracial adoptee( who knows. Maybe there is someone like me that just hasn’t shared that bit of themselves yet). The Imposter Syndrome would not ease up in other areas of my life.

In fact, the Imposter Syndrome might have started earlier for me than my peers.

My entire life, I’ve felt like an imposter. I’ve felt like a woman pretending to be Asian. I’d sit and stare at my reflection before school and question how I was going to make it through another day full of micro-aggressions and trying to fit in. I’d grow jealous of my BIPOC friends who struggled along with me but could go home and see examples of empowerment and strength within their own family.

My Imposter Syndrome peaked during my qualifying exams of graduate school. My engagement had just been broken off and I was already feeling very low and confused. The words used to describe my abandonment and adoption had just been used to call off my wedding. I powered through studying despite struggling mentally. I didn’t pass my exam the first time. I passed on my second attempt, but it didn’t feel like a success. It felt like the end to a hazing process meant to get me to quit.

For the next two years, I went on an intense identity journey. Moving away for college was the catalyst to discovering my identity, but living as an Asian woman in my twenties, single for the first time since I was nineteen, in a city with only a few friends and no family… I was figuring out how to really be independent. I would go to restaurants alone. I got over my anxiety with driving and stressful parking lots. I realized that even though I should still remain alert and aware, walking the dog at 11 PM wouldn’t automatically mean a dangerous trip outside.

I began getting comfortable in my own skin as Lilly.

I also had much more free time. I got back into reading and sought out young adult fiction featuring BIPOC protagonists. With the YA genre booming, I suddenly had access to more books that spoke to my identity crisis than I ever had before. I was listening to more music by Asian artists and then, the undergraduate research assistant I mentored introduced me to the world of Kdramas. While I started exploring the Asianness in me, I kept quiet because I was still unsure how to confidently be me.

Fast forward to today. The Imposter Syndrome sticks around, but I snap out of it much quicker than I did before. For example, as a fifth-year PhD candidate, I am just now realizing how many skills I’ve honed. I was so used to immediately thinking of myself as subpar and below all of my peers. In a discussion with my advisor about a project, he said to me,

“Why would you listen to their advice? They tried your method and couldn’t get it to work. Clearly you have better hands and it and should stick with your protocols.”

I took a second to realize what I had accomplished and that I brought value to scientific research. I was not just a naïve graduate student relying on everyone else to make it through.

Of course, I still struggle with identity and Imposter Syndrome.

As I plan my own wedding (yes, we got back together), I constantly question if the little nods to my Chinese culture are fraudulent and disrespectful. I still get nervous when I am about to present data and imagine people calling out my experiments for missing key controls that could upend all of my research. The Imposter Syndrome hasn’t left, but I think I finally understand what the adults in my life would mean when they said, “Just own who you are.” I still don’t think it’s easy for adoptees to just own who they are when we are missing vital information about our identities. I have figured out that I can

Fake it ’til I make it.

I am more conscious of standing up straight and not looking down all of the time. I try and speak confidently when answering questions or giving my opinions. I am more aware that I can say, “I don’t know. I need to do more research before I can give an opinion. To others, that looks like I’m just owning who I am. To me, I know it’s still a work in progress.

Imposter Syndrome might not ever go away, but I’m learning how to combat it. I’m realizing just how many people struggle with it. I’m slowly figuring out that as I gain more confidence in my identity as a human, I gain more confidence in each identity I have.