You're at a networking event. Someone asks what you do.
Your mind races: Do you say "I'm a software engineer" or "I'm learning to code"? Do you claim "I'm a writer" or qualify it with "I'm trying to write more"? Do you own "I'm an entrepreneur" or hedge with "I'm working on a startup"?
That split-second hesitation? That knot in your stomach when you consider claiming the bigger identity? That voice whispering "who are you kidding?"
That's imposter syndrome.
But here's what most people get wrong: they think it's a problem to fix, a weakness to overcome, a psychological bug in their operating system.
It's not.
Imposter syndrome is data. It's a diagnostic signal. And once you learn to read it correctly, it becomes one of your most valuable tools for strategic reinvention.
What Imposter Syndrome Actually Is (And Isn't)
Here's my definition, rooted in the ESR Loop framework:
Imposter syndrome is the cognitive dissonance you feel when you assume an identity that you have not fully embodied.
Translation: You're claiming to be someone (Identity) without enough proof (Evidence) to convince yourself the claim is true.
This creates an evidence conflict:
You have evidence supporting your old identity ("I've been a pharmacist for years")
You have little or conflicting evidence supporting your new identity ("I've only built a few small projects as a developer")
Your brain notices this mismatch and sounds the alarm. That uncomfortable feeling? That's your internal lie detector, flagging the gap between who you're claiming to be and what you can prove.
Think about activities where you NEVER feel like an imposter:
Speaking your native language
Driving a car (after 3+ years of daily driving)
Your current job (after years in the role)
The skill you could do with your eyes closed
Why? Because you have overwhelming, undeniable evidence. Thousands of hours. Consistent results. Proof stacked so high that self-doubt can't even get a foothold.
Now think about where you DO feel imposter syndrome:
The new skill you're learning
The role you just stepped into
The audience you're trying to reach
The identity you're building toward
The difference? Evidence scarcity.
Imposter syndrome isn't measuring your inherent worth or natural talent. It's measuring the size of your evidence gap. That's it.
When Imposter Syndrome Is a Green Light (Not a Red Flag)
Here's the reframe that changes everything:
Imposter syndrome during active identity transition is not a bug. It's a feature.
Think about a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. Inside the chrysalis, there's a period where the caterpillar is dissolving. Its old form is breaking down while its new form is building up. If that caterpillar had consciousness during this phase, what would it feel?
"I'm not a caterpillar anymore, but I'm not yet a butterfly. What am I?"
That's imposter syndrome. You're in the chrysalis. You're between identities. The old one is dissolving ("I'm a pharmacist") and the new one is forming ("I'm a software engineer"), but neither feels fully true yet.
This is exactly where you're supposed to be.
Let me show you this in my own journey:
From 2014 to 2021, I was coding. I built an e-library for pharmacy students. I built an ERP system for our student association. I created multiple websites. I even sold a pharmacy management application.
But when someone asked what I did, I said: "I'm a pharmacist who codes on the side."
Why? Because despite all that work, I felt like an imposter calling myself a "developer." My evidence:
Supporting the new identity: Some projects, self-taught skills, a few paying clients
Supporting the old identity: Six years of pharmacy school, top 5% of class, clinical experience, professional license
The scales were tipped. Heavily. No wonder I felt like an imposter.
Then I did a one-year software engineering bootcamp. I learned data structures and algorithms in C. I built complex projects. I documented my journey publicly on Twitter. I grew an audience. I landed paid gigs. I got a full-time software engineering role.
The evidence accumulated. Project by project. Week by week. Month by month.
By 2023, when someone asked what I did, I said: "I'm a software engineer."
No hesitation. No qualification. No imposter syndrome.
What changed? Not my talent. Not my personality. Not some mindset shift.
The evidence changed. And once the evidence was undeniable, my brain stopped raising alarms.
Here's the diagnostic question to know if your imposter syndrome is healthy:
Are you actively generating evidence in the direction of your new identity?
If yes:
You're coding daily (even if just 15 minutes)
You're publishing writing weekly (even if just 500 words)
You're practicing public speaking monthly (even if just at a local meetup)
You're building your portfolio systematically
You're documenting your learning in public
Then your imposter syndrome is a green light. It's telling you: "You're in transition. Keep going. The evidence is building. You're not there yet, but you're on the path."
This is productive discomfort. This is the chrysalis. This is growth.
The feeling isn't a stop sign. It's a mile marker. It means you're moving.
When Imposter Syndrome Is a Warning Signal
But there's another version of this feeling. And it's not healthy.
This happens when you claim an identity without doing the work to earn it.
Let me be clear: this isn't imposter syndrome. This is actual imposture.
The difference:
Imposter syndrome (healthy): "I feel uncomfortable calling myself a developer because I've only built three small projects and I'm still learning. But I'm coding every day and my portfolio is growing."
Imposture (unhealthy): "I updated my LinkedIn to say I'm a senior developer even though I've never shipped a real project. I just want people to see me that way."
See the distinction?
One is building toward the identity. The other is performing the identity without building the foundation.
One is working through an evidence gap. The other is lying about the evidence.
The diagnostic test:
If someone asked you to prove your claim right now, could you?
Examples:
You call yourself a writer. Can you show me your published work? (Even if it's just three blog posts, that's evidence.)
You call yourself a developer. Can you show me your GitHub? Your deployed projects? (Even if they're small, that's evidence.)
You call yourself a public speaker. Can you show me videos of your talks? Testimonials from event organizers? (Even if it's from one local meetup, that's evidence.)
If you can show SOMETHING, you're in the healthy zone. Your imposter syndrome is just telling you the evidence gap exists, and you're working to close it.
If you can't show ANYTHING, you're not experiencing imposter syndrome. You're experiencing the discomfort of a lie.
And here's the thing: your brain knows the difference. That's why the feeling persists. It's not insecurity. It's honesty.
How to Overcome Imposter Syndrome (The Right Way)
Now that you understand the difference between healthy imposter syndrome and actual imposture, here's how to respond strategically to both.
The Evidence Audit Framework
When you feel imposter syndrome, run this systematic diagnostic:
Step 1: What identity am I claiming?
Be specific. Not "I want to be successful" but "I want to be a software engineer" or "I want to be a content creator" or "I want to be an entrepreneur."
Step 2: What evidence currently supports this identity?
List it all:
Projects you've completed
Skills you've demonstrated
Feedback you've received
Results you've generated
Time invested consistently
Be honest. Even small evidence counts.
Step 3: What evidence contradicts or conflicts with this identity?
This is the evidence supporting your old identity:
Years in your previous role
Credentials in another field
Your current job title
How others currently see you
This conflicting evidence is why you feel the tension.
Step 4: Am I misinterpreting this conflicting evidence?
This is the ESR Loop's first breaking point: Reinterpretation.
Ask yourself:
Does my pharmacy degree mean I CAN'T be a software engineer, or does it mean I bring unique domain expertise to tech?
Does my lack of a writing degree mean I'm NOT a writer, or does it mean I'm learning the craft through practice?
Does my corporate background mean I CAN'T be an entrepreneur, or does it mean I understand systems and operations better than most founders?
Often, the conflicting evidence isn't actually conflicting. It's just being filtered through an old interpretation.
Step 5: What specific actions will generate the missing evidence?
This is the ESR Loop's second breaking point: Action.
Identify the exact evidence you need and how to generate it:
To feel like a developer: Build 10 projects. Deploy them. Get users. Contribute to open source. Document your code publicly.
To feel like a writer: Publish 50 articles. Get reader feedback. Track your improving clarity. Build an audience.
To feel like a public speaker: Give 20 talks. Record them. Collect testimonials. Measure audience engagement.
Then commit to the Micro-Payment Method: the smallest daily action that generates this evidence.
One function written per day (for developers)
One paragraph written per day (for writers)
One minute of presentation practice per day (for speakers)
The Real-World Example: My Journey Revisited
Let me show you how this framework worked in my life:
Step 1: Identity I was claiming
Software engineer
Step 2: Evidence supporting it (pre-bootcamp)
Built e-library, ERP system, websites
Sold pharmacy management software
Self-taught for years
Step 3: Evidence contradicting it
Six years of pharmacy school
Top 5% pharmacy graduate
Licensed clinical pharmacist
No formal CS education
Step 4: Reinterpretation
Old interpretation: "My pharmacy degree proves I'm not a real developer."
New interpretation: "My pharmacy background gives me unique domain expertise. The diagnostic skills I learned (symptoms to root cause) are identical to debugging. I'm not starting from zero. I'm bringing transferable skills."
Step 5: Action plan
Enroll in ALX bootcamp to learn fundamentals (data structures, algorithms)
Code daily, even when motivation is low
Build in public on Twitter, documenting my learning
Ship projects consistently, get user feedback
Apply for roles, even if I don't feel ready
Result: Within two years, I had overwhelming evidence. The imposter syndrome dissolved not because I "believed in myself" more, but because I couldn't deny the proof anymore.
Deployed applications used by thousands. Public documentation of my learning. Job offers. Paid contracts. A full-time software engineering role.
The evidence became undeniable.
The Meta-Insight: Your Identity Is Always Evolving
Here's the truth that most people miss:
Your identity is never static. It's always evolving.
The moment you commit to growth, you commit to perpetual identity transition. Which means you commit to feeling imposter syndrome, over and over, as you step into new versions of yourself.
I felt it when I went from pharmacy student to pharmacist.
I felt it when I went from pharmacist to coder.
I felt it when I went from coder to software engineer.
I felt it when I went from software engineer to founder.
I feel it now as I build this personal brand and step into the identity of educator and framework architect.
Every single transition. Every single time.
The chrysalis phase is unavoidable.
But here's what I've learned: the discomfort is temporary. The evidence accumulates. And one day, without you even noticing the exact moment it happened, you stop feeling like an imposter.
Not because you convinced yourself to believe. But because you built enough proof that your brain stopped questioning.
So if you never feel imposter syndrome, you're not growing. You're staying in an identity you've already fully embodied. You're stagnating.
The real question isn't "How do I eliminate imposter syndrome?"
The real question is: "Am I generating the evidence to match my aspiration?"
If the answer is yes, embrace the discomfort. You're in the chrysalis. Your wings are forming.
If the answer is no, stop claiming the identity and start building the proof.
Either way, the path forward is clear.
Your Action This Week
Run the Evidence Audit on one identity you're building toward:
What identity am I claiming?
What evidence supports it?
What evidence contradicts it?
Am I misinterpreting the contradicting evidence?
What one action will I take this week to generate new evidence?
Then take that action. One piece of evidence at a time.
That's how you engineer your next identity.
That's how you turn imposter syndrome from a paralyzing feeling into actionable data.
The chrysalis is uncomfortable. But it's not a trap. It's a transformation.
See you next week,
Obed
