Not everyone who doubts themselves is suffering from impostor syndrome. Sometimes the real problem lies in the strategy they've chosen, and that's exactly why it's so important to learn to tell the difference.
I read a lot of articles here on DEV about burnout, impostor syndrome, and similar topics. I thought I'd add my own perspective because I have the feeling that some advice, often given with great confidence, can actually do more harm than good. The symptoms may be real, but the diagnosis can still be wrong.
Today I'd like to share my somewhat "engineering" approach to personal growth. Maybe it will help some of you. Because "just keep going" or "work harder" isn't always the right answer.
Impostor Syndrome
I do experience impostor syndrome.
And don't get me wrong. I generally have pretty high self-esteem, and I believe I've achieved quite a lot in different areas of my life. That doesn't stop me from doubting myself from time to time.
Here's an example from just the past few days.
I published an article about building an AI agent in around 80 lines of code, and it sparked an amazing discussion. I was genuinely proud of it. Even better, I got invited to speak about it at the AI Coding Summit! (By the way, if you'd like to support me, you can like my LinkedIn post and claim a badge that gives you access to half of the conference for free!)
Overall, I genuinely believe the topic is a great fit for a conference like this. What I really wanted was to see my face appear on the conference website, because I always have this feeling that once the organizers publish the speaker page, everything is basically official and they're unlikely to remove me afterward. 😅
Well... it took them exactly one day.
And I swear that by the end of that day, my brain had already come up with an entirely different explanation:
"What if they read my blog and realized how stupid my articles are? What if they email me saying: 'Sylwia, we've gone through your posts, and unfortunately we've decided to remove you from the conference. It's obvious you have no idea what you're talking about. We've figured you out, you fraud!'"
Reading this now, it sounds completely ridiculous. But I believed it. Never mind that my articles regularly appear in developer newsletters or receive lots of positive feedback. My brain had already written its own story.
Here's another example.
Once, an organizer described the speakers at a conference as "amazing international speakers." Instead of feeling proud, my first thought was: "Amazing international speakers... and Sylwia." After all, I'm just a software developer from Gdańsk. 😅
This is exactly what psychologists describe as impostor syndrome: despite objective achievements and external validation, you still feel like you don't really deserve your place, and sooner or later everyone else will discover that you're a fraud.
I'm not even going to dive into the psychology behind it today. Maybe that's a topic for another article.
But Not Every Doubt Is Impostor Syndrome
Here's the important part. Not every doubt you have automatically means you're experiencing impostor syndrome.
There are also areas where I'm genuinely... bad. Take running.
I'm an absolutely terrible runner. My times are objectively awful. So awful that I'd rather not even share them. 😄 I'm fully aware of it. I'd probably lose a race against a five-year-old, not to mention the fact that I don't have an ACL in either knee thanks to my old judo days.
Now imagine someone giving me this advice: "Come on, you just have impostor syndrome! Keep running more, train harder, and one day you'll become Poland's marathon champion."
You can immediately tell how absurd that sounds. That advice wouldn't help me in the slightest.
And yet, very similar advice is often given to people who are learning programming or have been unsuccessfully looking for a job for months.
You've been working incredibly hard without seeing results and you're starting to feel burned out? "It's just impostor syndrome. Don't worry. Work harder. Keep going. Just a little longer."
You've been writing blog posts and nobody reads them? "It's just impostor syndrome. Don't worry. Keep publishing consistently. The results will eventually come."
Personally, I think this kind of advice can actually be harmful.
Think Like an Engineer
Let's go back to my running example. Why am I such a bad runner? Maybe I only started recently and my expectations are unrealistic. Maybe I'm making fundamental mistakes in training. Maybe I'm wearing the wrong shoes. Maybe I simply don't have much natural talent for running, and I'd enjoy a different sport much more.
Or maybe I should just run for fun instead of chasing unrealistic goals.
The same way of thinking applies almost everywhere else. Have you sent hundreds of CVs without getting interviews? Maybe it's worth asking an HR specialist to review your resume. Maybe the market is simply terrible right now. Maybe you're missing one specific skill that's relatively easy to learn.
Maybe you're applying only for fully remote positions. Or maybe you're aiming exclusively at FAANG companies, while you'd have much better chances at smaller organizations.
Are you writing blog posts that nobody reads? Maybe your titles could be stronger. Maybe you should spend more time interacting with the community, learning from other people while also increasing your own visibility. Maybe another platform would suit you better. For example, I get fantastic engagement and wonderful discussions here on DEV, while my LinkedIn posts usually perform much worse. 😄
Debug Your Strategy, Not Just Your Confidence
That's what I mean by an "engineering" approach to personal growth. Every few months, try looking at your efforts critically, without ego, as if your own development were someone else's project.
Ask yourself: Is the time I'm investing actually producing results? If not, maybe it's worth changing the strategy instead of simply trying harder.
Because maybe your doubts aren't impostor syndrome at all. Maybe they're your brain telling you that your current approach simply isn't working.
Sometimes the answer really is greater confidence and perseverance. But sometimes the answer is changing your strategy. The hard part is learning to tell the difference.
Top comments (33)
Thank you for sharing this post! I have similar reflections after taking up painting recently. I've always believed I don't have talent; however, I've always enjoyed painting. Recently, I started doing it for fun, and I quickly discovered that you can achieve a lot just by practicing and learning different techniques. I may not be able to draw a real-life pencil portrait, but I enjoy playing with watercolors. I'll probably never be a well-known artist, but it's not the point. I still enjoy the process of simply painting. I feel like this is the "change of strategy" you mentioned 🙂
Also, hard to believe you had such undervaluing thoughts about yourself. You always seemed to me to be quite a self-confident and accomplished engineer. I have a feeling that impostor syndrome somehow grows really deep in our nation 😅
Thank you, Klaudia! ❤️ I think my relationship with sports is very similar to your relationship with painting. I enjoy being active, I love the endorphins, but I'll never become a super-fit marathon runner. 😄 Sure, if I invested a huge amount of time and energy into it, I'd probably get better results... but they'd still be far from world-class. And honestly? I don't even want to. I'd much rather exercise for myself, for my health... and for my knees. 😄
As for my impostor syndrome, the funny thing is that you actually have a good intuition. I am generally a very self-confident person. 😄 But those thoughts still appear from time to time. I think it's because people only see the final result. They don't see how much work went into it, how many doubts I had along the way, or how much I had to learn before I got there. 🙂
That's why it's so valuable and important to share articles like the one you just published. When only results are visible, it can seem that success comes naturally to the person on top; that maybe they have talent or a specific personal characteristic that makes them succeed. Such thinking can even stop people from chasing their goals. They do not see that, very often, there's a lot of work and overcoming self-doubt behind the curtain.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts! :)
Thank you, Klaudia, that's such a kind thing to say. ❤️
I completely agree. We usually only see the destination, never the road that led there.
I also think it helps to set smaller, more achievable goals instead of trying to plan your entire career from day one. 😄
I still remember my very first performance review as a junior developer. My manager asked me about my long-term career goals, and I honestly replied, "I don't know... my goal was to become a junior developer, and I've just achieved it!" 🤣
He burst out laughing, gave me a high five, and said, "Fair enough... but let's push you a little further." Then he signed me up for a certification course.🤣
Looking back, I'm actually glad I didn't try to map out the next ten years of my career. One small goal at a time worked much better for me. 😊
This really resonated with me.
I struggle with impostor syndrome from time to time as well. But over the years, I've also had to accept another uncomfortable truth: there are things I'm simply not good at. I've tried, I've worked hard, and sometimes it just wasn't enough.
Looking back, I think the endless "just keep pushing" advice often made me feel worse, not better. Sometimes persistence is exactly what's needed. Other times, the healthiest thing you can do is accept that your strengths lie somewhere else.
I think your own journey illustrates that perfectly. You found the people who connect with your work, and that's far more meaningful than trying to appeal to everyone. Maybe that's what success really looks like—not universal recognition, but finding the place where what you do genuinely matters.
Exactly, Pascal! I especially like your last paragraph. I think that's one of the most important lessons: finding the right place where your work truly resonates with people, instead of trying to appeal to everyone.
And the older I get, the more I realize that our energy is limited. We simply can't be great at everything, so we have to choose wisely where we invest it.
For example, as you can probably tell from the article, I'll never become a super-fit marathon runner. 😄 But that doesn't mean I should just sit on the couch and give up on exercise altogether. It's still worth spending some time every week doing some kind of sport for the sake of my health.
I think it's the same with many other areas of life. Sometimes looking reality in the eye is actually liberating. It helps us stop fighting unwinnable battles and focus on the things where our efforts can truly make a difference.
I completely agree. I think the key distinction is between doing something because it's good for you and expecting it to become your defining strength.
I'm never going to be a great designer, for example. I know that now. But understanding the basics still makes me a better developer because I can collaborate more effectively and appreciate good design when I see it.
Accepting our limits doesn't mean giving up. It just means being intentional about where we expect excellence—and where "good enough" is perfectly enough.
I love that perspective. And you know what? Sometimes it's exactly that mix of skills—being really good at one thing, "good enough" at another, and having at least some understanding of several other areas—that gives us a real advantage.
I once read that many of the biggest breakthroughs happen at the intersection of different fields, where people connect ideas that specialists in a single discipline might never think to combine. That's another great reason not to chase mastery in absolutely everything. Sometimes "good enough" is exactly what you need.
And, after all, we only get one life (at least as far as we know 😄). It's worth actually living it, too, instead of exhausting ourselves in pursuit of some vague, undefined higher purpose.
Exactly! I think you've touched on something really important: depth is valuable, but connections between different areas are often where the unexpected value appears.
Looking back at my own career, I realize that many of the things that helped me the most were not isolated technical skills, but the ability to connect different worlds: development, infrastructure, business needs, user experience, security, and even communication.
I may not be the best specialist in every one of those areas, but having enough understanding to see the bigger picture has often been more useful than being exceptional in only one narrow field.
And I really like your last point. At some stage, the goal shouldn't be to optimize ourselves endlessly. It's about building something meaningful, helping people, staying curious—and still leaving enough energy to actually enjoy the journey. 😄
great take I think. I don't really believe in imposter syndrome, it's more like I don't have enough experience in that domain and need to learn more... just learn over time, take it easy but push yourself to do better, try to kill bad habits slowly & every once in a while - go explore the world
as you said, I think it's ok to know you won't be great at something. we shouldn't be perfect.
Thanks, Anmol! 🙂
I think we're actually saying very similar things. The only place where I'd disagree is the definition of impostor syndrome itself.
In my opinion (and according to psychology), impostor syndrome is specifically when you doubt yourself despite external success and recognition. That's exactly what happened in the examples from my article.
On the other hand, if you're doubting yourself because you genuinely lack experience, are missing a skill, or are working in an unhealthy environment, I don't think that's impostor syndrome at all. Those are real problems, and they deserve different solutions.
And yes, I completely agree with your last point. 🙂 None of us can be great at everything. That's just biology! The real challenge is figuring out where it's worth investing our limited time and energy, and where good enough is already enough.
In Czech, we have a lovely song with the line, “When you can’t go on, push harder.” We also have a humorous saying: “If brute force doesn’t work, you’re not using enough of it.” 😄 But I can confirm from my own experience that this approach doesn’t always work. 😅 Sometimes you simply have to change your strategy, exactly as you propose.
I would perhaps add just one thing: We also need to be patient and consistent, because not seeing immediate results doesn’t necessarily mean that our strategy is wrong.
Hahaha, I love those Slavic sayings! 😂 In Poland, we have one that goes, "If you can't get in through the door, climb in through the window," which I think is actually much closer to the message of my article. 😄
And yes, I completely agree about patience and consistency. I just think it's healthy to schedule honest checkpoints every few months. If someone has been working incredibly hard and still isn't seeing any progress, it doesn't necessarily mean they should give up, but it might be time to rethink the strategy.
Sometimes the answer isn't "work harder." Sometimes it's actually "work less, because you're not giving yourself enough time to recover." 🙂
You’re right, patience without honest reflection can easily turn into stubbornness. And yes, that sounds like a very healthy approach.
P.S. I just had an idea: we could combine both sayings: “Instead of reaching for a bigger hammer, buy a ladder!” 🤣
Hahaha, I absolutely love that! 🤣 We should teach that saying to little Slavic kids instead. 😄
Dear Sylwia,
Thank you so much for this article — I consider it a much-needed dose of realism in an era where self-development drowns in abstract, emotional slogans.
The point that resonated with me most was your call to separate the "ego" from the evaluation of our performance. This idea alone is enough to free us from the cycle of self-flagellation, because it teaches us to see our failures as ordinary "data" rather than as a "verdict" on our worth as human beings. Likewise, your warning against hustle culture was spot on: not every stubborn persistence is strength — sometimes it is simply an escape from facing the truth that we are walking the wrong path.
Reading your article opened a door in my mind to an integrative question that might add another dimension to your idea:
Could it be that our inner fear (or what we mistakenly label impostor syndrome) is what leads us to choose the wrong paths in the first place? Sometimes we choose safe, less ambitious paths out of fear of rejection, and when they fail, we assume the solution is simply to "change the path" — while the truth is that we first need to address the roots of that fear. Otherwise, we will reproduce the same failure on every new path we take.
I also reflected on the point about "immediate results." In many deep fields, the fruits may not appear for years. And here lies the real challenge: distinguishing between a path that is wrong and a path that simply requires patience and persistence.
But upon rereading, a deeper angle occurred to me: human beings are, by nature, blind to the results of their own work; we need an honest external mirror to show us the truth of what we are doing. And here lies the cruel paradox — sometimes our failure is not caused by a flawed strategy or personal weakness, but by the "friends" who surround us. The overly encouraging friend deprives us of hearing the truth; the fearful friend steers us toward paths of quiet defeat; and the envious friend distorts how we see our own successes. For that reason, choosing an honest, critically-minded circle may be the most important strategic decision we make before embarking on any project.
In short, your article did not merely hand me an excellent diagnostic tool — it prompted me to reconsider my relationship with my fear, with my patience, and with the people I listen to.
Thank you for this mature, thoughtful piece. I wish you continued impact and creativity.
With sincere appreciation,
🗻🧊😁
Thank you so much for leaving such a thoughtful comment! I really appreciate the time and effort you put into it.
Regarding your point about patience, I completely agree. In fact, I wanted to emphasize exactly that. Even when a goal realistically takes years to achieve, I think we still need to stop every few months and do an honest checkpoint: Am I actually making progress?
Take sports, for example. If your dream is to become a judo champion, of course it will take years. But if, after one or two years of training incredibly hard, you're still losing almost every match, it's probably worth rethinking your strategy. Who knows? Maybe you're actually training too hard and not giving yourself enough time to recover. Or maybe, as difficult as it is to accept, this simply isn't your path. The reality is that not everyone becomes a judo champion.
As for fear, I'm honestly not sure how to respond yet. I need to think about it more. Personally, I've never really struggled with that, but I do see it in people around me. The question I'm asking myself is: are they actually choosing the wrong path because of fear? Or are they choosing a perfectly valid but safer path, even though they're capable of aiming higher? That's a really interesting distinction, and you've definitely given me something to think about.
And regarding friends, I couldn't agree more. There's nothing worse than a "friend" who constantly downplays your achievements instead of helping you see yourself more clearly.
Thanks again for such a thoughtful comment. It genuinely made me reflect beyond what I originally wrote.
When a direction stops working, pivot. You never see the whole picture from a single angle.
Exactly! That's how I see it as well. 😊 And there's nothing wrong with something not working out. It's not a verdict on us. It's just data. Data that helps us adjust our strategy and make better decisions going forward.
That difference detector is the most interesting piece of life's puzzle 🙂
Exactly. That's why I think it's worth asking ourselves every few months: "Is what I'm doing still working?" 🙂
Sylwia, the running example nails it for me. you can't "push harder" your way out of a structural mismatch. I had my own version of this recently: applied for a role I was genuinely the best-fit answer for, on paper, and got rejected because of where I live, not what I know. No amount of "just believe in yourself" fixes a payroll line.
Your exchange with xm_dev_2026 in the comments is the real distinction — some rejections are data about fit, not data about worth
Exactly, Daniel! That's a perfect example.
Years ago I applied to Google, and one of the non-negotiable requirements was relocating to another city. That simply wasn't an option for me at the time. No amount of confidence or persistence could change that.
Another time I was rejected after a technical interview, and honestly... they were absolutely right. 😄 They were using a fairly niche technology that I simply didn't know well enough.
I don't see either of those as failures. They're just data. Sometimes the data tells you, "This isn't the right fit." Sometimes it tells you, "Here's the specific skill you're missing."
And I think that's much more useful than turning every rejection into a judgment about your worth.
I learned about it when I did google ux course (since english isn't my native language), so I wasn't even aware of this term.
These days, I believe imposter syndrome is basically seeing others doing good on socials - we compare a lot.
Absolutely! And social media makes it even harder, because we usually only see a tiny slice of other people's lives. We see the finished article, the accepted conference talk, the promotion... but we don't see the months of learning, failed attempts, doubts, or rejected applications that came before it.
The "comfort and ease are not the diagnosis" line is the part I want to flag, because it reframes the whole conversation. A lot of writing about impostor syndrome treats the syndrome as the cause and pushes the prescription ("just believe in yourself, push harder, apply anyway") as if effort and confidence were the missing inputs. The article does the cleaner move: name the actual problem first (a real skill gap, a bad role fit, a missing piece of context) and only then talk about what to do about it.
The reframe that lands for me is the distinction between "I do not belong here" and "I do not yet have the inputs this role assumes." Those feel similar from the inside -- both come with the same flinch when you are asked to perform -- but they have opposite prescriptions. The first wants encouragement and exposure. The second wants targeted practice, a better environment, or a different role. Mixing the two up is what makes the "just push harder" advice so often backfire: it sends people into the second category with a first-category toolkit and then wonders why the flinch gets worse.
What I have seen work is treating the impostor feeling as a signal to investigate, not a verdict to overcome. The investigation usually finds one of three things: a domain where your training is thin (fixable), a role where the implicit expectations do not match how you actually work (a fit problem, not a you problem), or an environment that punishes questions (a culture problem, definitely not a you problem). The first is solvable with effort. The second is a conversation to have. The third is a door to walk out of. Pushing harder is only the right answer in the first case, and even there it works better as "push specifically" than as "push more."
Thank you for such a thoughtful comment! I really like how you expanded on the idea from the article.
The only point where I see things a little differently is your list of possible explanations. To me, all three examples you mentioned (a real skill gap, a role mismatch, or a toxic environment) are actually not impostor syndrome. They're real problems that deserve completely different solutions.
That's exactly why I wrote the article. 🙂
If someone lacks the required knowledge, the answer is learning. If the role isn't a good fit, the answer might be changing roles. If the environment punishes questions, that's a culture problem, not a personal one.
Impostor syndrome, at least in the psychological sense, is different. In my own examples, I already had external validation: conference committees accepted my talks, organizers described the speakers as "amazing international speakers," my articles were well received... and yet my brain still came up with the story that I was somehow fooling everyone.
That's why I think the first step is always making the right diagnosis. Otherwise we risk treating a real skill gap as impostor syndrome, or, just as importantly, treating genuine impostor syndrome as if it were simply a lack of competence.