Key Points

• Impostor syndrome can be viewed through a wider lens that includes a pandemic and the systemic, intentional disenfranchisement of BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ communities.

• Increased self-doubt and a feeling of “not belonging” are natural responses to years or decades of being undermined, undervalued, and intentionally excluded in work environments.

• It’s helpful to ask yourself these questions: “Is it impostor syndrome or good judgment?” and “Is it impostor syndrome, or am I having a normal response to past discrimination, microaggressions, and toxic workplace culture?”

When I first wrote about impostor syndrome in 2019 (“Feeling Like a Fake: Impostor Syndrome in Massage Therapists,” May/June 2019, page 50), it was with the goal of helping massage therapists move through the very common cycle of doubting oneself and one’s skills. These doubts and fears can become big obstacles in our growth and success as practitioners and business owners.

Since that article was published, I’ve had the opportunity to view the issue with a wider lens, one that includes both a pandemic and the raised awareness of racial inequity and the systemic, intentional disenfranchisement of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) and LGBTQIA+ communities.

Rowan Blaisdell, former massage therapist, current psychotherapist, and host of the Therapy for Humans podcast (therapyforhumanspodcast.com), describes impostor syndrome as the feeling you don’t belong or haven’t earned your place. It’s feeling not smart or experienced enough. Impostor syndrome often includes the fear you will be “found out” and uncovered as a fraud.

Blaisdell says impostor syndrome is often rooted in low self-esteem, performance anxiety, and fear of failure. A work or home environment where people are harshly criticized for mistakes can increase these feelings.

Some of the same traits of impostor syndrome can also be motivators to keep improving as practitioners. Sometimes what looks like the procrastination of impostor syndrome is actually an awareness to stay in our scope of practice. Self-awareness is contextual and flexible and helps you accomplish your goals. Impostor syndrome is pervasive and repetitive and holds you back.

While I touched on the importance of balancing confidence and humility, I dramatically underestimated the role of ego and hubris in our profession. There have always been massage therapists who knowingly practice outside their scope. Many of us have attended classes where one renowned educator or another makes wild claims, telling stories of diagnosing clients or “knowing more” than a medical practitioner.

I once took a massage class in which the instructor, who had no credentials outside of massage, performed chiropractic adjustments, without permission, on students who had volunteered for massage demonstrations. “You needed that,” said the instructor, to a wide-eyed, shocked, and in-pain student.

The arrival of the pandemic brought these issues of ego and scope into sharp focus at a practitioner level. As some states shut down and forced closure of personal-service businesses, many massage therapists argued that massage therapy is essential health care and they should be allowed to remain open. While I can appreciate that approach and encourage activism whenever one is opposed to legislation, many therapists just ignored those rules and kept working regardless of state and local restrictions.

Here in Massachusetts, where we were completely shut down for about three months, I know of practitioners who worked illegally because they felt they “knew better” than all the authorities and health-care professionals who guided those restrictions.

As my state reopened with a handful of rules and restrictions, I watched even more colleagues blatantly ignore the new safety protocols, again believing they were better informed with their 500–1,000 hours of massage school training than the epidemiologists and infectious disease specialists who helped create the protocols.

I am also aware that these issues were, and still are, much worse in other areas of the country.

At the same time, there were plenty of practitioners who took a pause and learned as much as they could about safety. They stayed on top of information as it emerged and evolved, and went back to work as allowed, creating the safest possible environment for their clients.

What was the difference between these two groups? Ego. Those who followed the rules were willing to step back and acknowledge their own limitations in scope and education. They were more self-aware—able to interpret their actions, feelings, and thoughts objectively.

I don’t know how this haphazard approach to care at the beginning of a pandemic could have been avoided or how it can be solved in the future. I don’t know how we can sort out the “need a boost in confidence” massage therapists from the “could use a talking to about ego” massage therapists.

But I cringe thinking that anyone used my ideas for conquering impostor syndrome to puff themselves up and ignore the guidance of actual experts during a global health crisis.

The Effects of a Prior Toxic Workplace Culture

My prior exploration of impostor syndrome also excluded an acknowledgment of a person’s experience in the workforce. If you’ve ever experienced abuse or discrimination in a workplace, of course that could affect your confidence and belief in your skills in future jobs.

Women and members of the BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ communities have experienced disproportionate levels of harmful behaviors from superiors and colleagues in the workplace. These experiences are sometimes subtle and slow-building, and the effects can be long-lasting. Increased self-doubt and a feeling of “not belonging” are natural responses to years or decades of being undermined, undervalued, and intentionally excluded in work environments. In “Stop Telling Women They Have Imposter [sic] Syndrome,” authors Ruchika Tulshyan and Jodi-Ann Burey point out that workplace norms are rooted in the leadership and communication styles of heterosexual white men.¹ Any behaviors outside those norms are discouraged. That type of culture takes a deep toll on anyone who doesn’t work, think, or behave in that way.

Ultimately, we have to answer the questions, “Is it impostor syndrome or good judgment?” and “Is it impostor syndrome, or am I having a normal response to past discrimination, microaggressions, and toxic workplace culture?”

To check one’s ego and judgment, it’s helpful to ask a series of questions such as:

• Is this just nerves?

• Would a trusted instructor or mentor encourage me to attend this event, take on this project, or use this technique on this client?

• Do I have the necessary education, credentialing, and licensing to practice my trade or this technique?

• Does sharing this opinion or information violate my scope of practice?

• Are there credible sources to support the information I’m sharing?

It’s much harder to navigate issues of belonging that come from awful workplace experiences. Help from a mental health-care provider, community groups, career coaches who specialize in discrimination and workplace trauma, or a great circle of colleagues and mentors may be in order.

In both cases, I think most massage therapists are uniquely qualified to step back and notice how we feel in our bodies and minds. By taking the time to sort through our feelings, we can begin to root out the source of our reactions and view our choices objectively.

Growth as a massage therapist and business owner can only come from this kind of thoughtful personal work, which can only serve to improve our care and contributions to the profession and the communities we serve.

Note

1. Ruchika Tulshyan and Jodi-Ann Burey, Harvard Business Review, “Stop Telling Women They Have Imposter Syndrome,” February 11, 2011, www.hbr.org/2021/02/stop-telling-women-they-have-imposter-syndrome.