The Corporate Lie and Why You Still Feel Like a Fraud (Even at the Top)

Peeling back the mask of imposter syndrome...

It's me again, here to challenge notions and beliefs that we hold which I think need to be scraped and revamped. I'm diving deep into a topic many of us have read about or experienced, but rarely truly dissect: imposter syndrome. If any of this resonates with you, please drop me a like, comment or share. Your support means a lot!

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

In the corridors and cubicles of the corporate world, "imposter syndrome" is a term I often hear tossed around (and have read plenty about). It’s typically used to describe that nagging feeling of inadequacy when you land a new role, surrounded by seemingly more experienced or outwardly successful peers. The prevailing wisdom suggests it's a temporary phase, a natural byproduct of stepping outside your comfort zone, something that will eventually fade as you accumulate experience and "prove" yourself. Just give it time, they say. Build more evidence. Work harder.

But what if this common understanding only scratches the surface?

What if the roots of imposter syndrome stretch far deeper than a new job title or a challenging project, reaching back into the very core of who we are and how we learned to navigate the world?

This common narrative about imposter syndrome often lets us off the hook too easily, allowing a deeper truth to slip through our collective net, normalizing a discomfort that deserves closer scrutiny.

Recently, a short clip from the renowned physician and author Gabor Maté resonated deeply with me. A host confessed to constantly feeling fake, even manipulative, no matter the context. Maté's immediate response: "That's called imposter syndrome". He then offered a startling, yet incredibly insightful, follow-up: imposter syndrome, he suggested, is a deeply ingrained belief stemming from the fact that "you couldn't be real as a kid in some ways". In essence, one grew up in an environment where they never felt safe enough to truly be themselves, to act in a way that felt natural and authentic. This 'unsafety' might have stemmed from environments where expressing genuine emotions led to criticism, where love was conditional on performance, or where one's innate curiosity was stifled by rigid expectations. As a result, we learned to don a mask, to pretend, to perform a role — out of a deep-seated need for safety and acceptance. We weren't being ourselves, and in a way, we actually were "fake" because our true selves were stifled.

I think this perspective shifts the conversation dramatically. It challenges the notion that imposter syndrome is merely a professional hurdle, a sign you "haven't done it yet". Instead, it suggests a significant, persistent state of inauthenticity. It suggests that many of us, particularly in environments that demand constant performance and validation, are constantly out of alignment with our true selves. You put on a facade, believing it's necessary for you to succeed, to be liked, to be valued by your superiors and peers. This constant performance might mean suppressing your innovative ideas for fear of sounding foolish, over-preparing to an unhealthy degree to avoid any perceived flaw or awkward conversation, attributing your successes solely to “luck” rather than skill, or actively avoiding new challenges where that “mask” might slip. The corporate ladder, in this light, becomes less about climbing with competence and more about performing a role that feels foreign to your deepest being.

The most compelling evidence for this deeper truth lies in the confessions of those who have reached the pinnacle of success. These are individuals at the absolute top of their fields – award-winning actors, industry titans, global leaders – who openly admit to still grappling with imposter syndrome. Maya Angelou, the prolific author and poet famously said "I have written 11 books, but each time I think, 'uh oh, they're going to find out now. I've run a game on everybody, and they're going to find me out'." Even Meryl Streep, arguably one of the greatest actors of all time, questioned "You think, 'Why would anyone want to see me again in a movie? And I don't know how to act anyway, so why am I doing this?'" If such titans, with undeniable evidence of their mastery, still feel like frauds, it powerfully underscores that this isn't just about accumulating experience.

Yet, some modern voices, like entrepreneur Leila Hormozi, suggest we stop calling it "imposter syndrome" and simply label it "inexperience", advocating for a solution rooted in "action, action, action" and urging you to "follow the plan, not your mood". While taking action is undeniably crucial for growth and building competence, this perspective risks oversimplifying a complex internal struggle. It implies that simply doing more will erase the deep-seated belief of being a fraud. But as the experiences of truly seasoned individuals show, more action doesn't necessarily dismantle the underlying fear that you're just pretending to belong, if that belief was wired early on.

This isn't something we can whitewash away with platitudes like "everyone feels it" or "it'll pass". I believe this is a deeply rooted issue that demands our attention, curiosity, and courage. We need to shed light on it, ask uncomfortable questions, and be willing to look backward, not to dwell in the past, but to understand the origins of our present reality. If the lens through which we view imposter syndrome is incorrect – if we think it's a symptom of individual inadequacy rather than a scar from a childhood where authenticity was too risky – then our prescribed solutions will always fall short. You'll continue to be hard on yourself, believing you just need to "double down" and "work harder" to get more evidence, running on a hamster wheel that leads in the wrong direction. You'll wonder what you did wrong, why you feel like a failure while others seem to have it all figured out.

But the truth is, this isn't about being broken - it's about having had the wrong map. This understanding invites a deep compassion for yourself, realizing your initial view of things was simply off. Personal change starts with you finding that internal peace that comes from living in alignment, rather than constantly performing a role. In a corporate landscape often defined by hyper-competition, relentless performance metrics, and a pervasive emphasis on “personal branding”, these early lessons in inauthenticity are not only reinforced but often rewarded. The very systems designed for success can inadvertently create environments where genuine vulnerability and true self-expression feel like liabilities. The pervasive fear of being “found out” doesn't just exhaust individuals. On a bigger scale, it starves organizations of true innovation, hinders authentic collaboration, and creates a culture where genuine feedback and risk-taking are suppressed.

When everyone is performing, who is truly creating, connecting, and challenging the status quo?

It's time to challenge the complacency around imposter syndrome. It's not just a professional inconvenience. It's a significant invitation to explore the conditions that shaped our sense of self, and to begin the challenging, yet liberating, work of unmasking ourselves to ourselves. This work we set out to do isn't about “curing” a flaw, but about an internal excavation. It involves bravely reflecting on past experiences, questioning deeply held beliefs about our worth, and practicing radical self-compassion to gradually reclaim the parts of ourselves we felt compelled to hide. It's about building internal evidence of worth, not just external validation and creating for ourselves an environment where we give to ourselves the safety and security needed to flourish. That regardless of if we have mastered the role or not, imposter syndrome doesn’t need to be accepted as a given, that we can seek discomfort outside our comfort zones while not feeling like a fake, fraud or someone that will be found out. It’s time to challenge the advice we take as truth and listen to our inner voice to lead us in the right direction.