Imposter syndrome would have you believe you are not worthy and have you looking over your shoulder and worrying someone will discover you are not as good as you think. Denise Richardson shares her story of resilience and how she overcame this personal challenge
If fortune favours the prepared mind, as scientist Louis Pasteur once said, then I believe the experiences I had as a homeless child have been an integral part of my successes in corporate life.
In failure too, I found homelessness taught me to deal with ambiguity, loss, disappointment, and setbacks.
For context, I should say that I was brought up by a violent drug-addicted, alcoholic mother and was abandoned by my father. At 11-years old, in the last years of my mother’s life, I became her principal carer.
Although my domestic environment was toxic, I learned very quickly that adaptability not only offered me choices in terms of my physical welfare but also became the cornerstone of my resilience.
By the time I left the children’s home at 18, I was ready to live life on my terms. Brief careers as a nurse and as a police officer followed, helping me to increase my self-confidence and inter-relationship skills.
It was at this point that I took a job at a recruitment firm, which specialised in the recruitment of nurses. It was in this small company that I found a love and gift for business. I thrived in an environment that rewarded hard work, creativity and business savvy.
Gaining acceptance
I understand now, that although I was working hard to be successful, I was subconsciously also beavering away to gain acceptance and social approbation. In effect the harder I worked, the more people were bound to like me. It was an emotional recipe for disaster and the first intimations of imposter syndrome.
Still, these were early days in my corporate life, and when I inevitably outgrew my role, I decided I needed a new challenge in my life, and so I moved to Australia. Here, I joined Manpower Group and, unbeknown to me at the time, would become my corporate home for 15 years.
At the time, Manpower was a $5bn listed business that had more than 2,000 offices worldwide, and was considered the #1 recruitment firm in the world.
I became the Regional Manager for Manpower Queensland, an area seven times larger than the UK. It was here that I received my first exposure to best-practice business principles. I learnt the rigours of strategic planning, business plans, and their execution.
Pressure to deliver
I received much responsibility, and with it, the pressure to deliver on people, client, and financial targets.
I reverted to the norm and started to work extremely long hours and travelled huge distances to ensure my region was considered a first-class operation. I drove myself hard in terms of personal expectations, professional standards, and work ethic. I needed to ensure that my region was above criticism.
Once again, the subconscious need for social approbation sat, at the time, very comfortably next to the need for success. I began to blur the distinctions between the perfectly reasonable desire for professional diligence and the need for perfection.
Self doubt
I began to receive internal awards for targets and professional excellence, and by direct correlation, more exposure to the senior leaders of the organisation. It was at this point that I began to question my suitability for the accolades and wider exposure I received. A series of reoccurring questions found their way into my psyche: ‘What if I fail?’ ‘What if I’m not as good as they think I am?’ ‘Am I really good enough for this role?’
To add to this spicy mix of self-doubt, I was promoted and offered the job as the Managing Director for Malaysia.
There was, of course, sufficient evidence to suggest I was more than able to fulfil the role, but imposter syndrome has a canny way of ignoring the facts.
As a Managing Director, I reported directly to the board. This promotion became a pivotal moment in my career because the role came with immense challenges. The incumbent, a local Malay, had overseen a significant loss of business, and the teams were lacking in leadership and core skills.
In preparing for the role in Malaysia, I knew I must deal with the self-doubt and anxiety associated with imposter syndrome. I felt if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be as confident at risk-taking as I needed to be to make the business thrive.
A mind-set change
What became clear is that I needed a perception and mind-set change. I started by removing the distorted lens of self-doubt and looked at the role as an opportunity to succeed and not, as a way of proving my worth to others.
I realised that by allowing your self-esteem to rest on anything external (title, salary, the opinions of others, looks etc.), you are in big trouble because all these things can change or be removed. Imposter syndrome is a vehicle for self-doubt and excuses.
It was a life-changing insight that provided a platform for me to take 100% accountability for my life. The fact that seasoned professional men and women selected me for the role was a wonderful endorsement but what mattered really, was my belief that I deserved it.
This was not a self-inflating, ego-based insight but an acceptance that I possessed gifts and abilities honed over the years and, which could still be broadened and deepened.
I went to Malaysia stronger emotionally. When I left three years later for even more challenging executive roles in the Middle East and China, the Malaysian business had tripled, and I sat on the global leadership team. Equally as important, my imposter syndrome disappeared.
At its core, imposter syndrome would have you believe you are not worthy. It has an insidious ability to have you looking over your shoulder and worrying someone, somewhere will discover you are not as good as you or others think.
Living on your terms means taking 100% accountability for your life, which also means fully accepting you have amazing qualities which, when unencumbered with self-doubt, allows you to accomplish anything to which you put your mind.
The irony, of course, is that as a little girl I was already living this maxim. Still, better late than never.
Denise Richardson’s memoir Cruel: One Child’s Story To Survive is published by New Horizon Publishing, priced £7.95. See more at https://www.fearlessoutcomes.com/
