In combating Imposter Syndrome, the right outfit will help you find your confidence or, at the very least, not sabotage it.

But clothes can’t do all the heavy lifting. You’ll also need to shift your perspective.

A few days ago, we held a video call with the attorneys who will be serving as mediators in one of our cases. As I looked at the Brady Bunch screen, I was suddenly very happy. I loved seeing that two female attorneys would be helping us navigate potential settlement options. After the call, I decided to look up their backgrounds. They’re obviously very impressive women, and I wanted to know more.

But it turns out my brain had an ulterior motive.

As I poured through the younger attorney’s biography, I saw that she attended an Ivy League school for both her undergraduate degree and law school. She has worked for a very prestigious firm, has an impressive litigation background, and serves on the board of a large organization.

Perhaps worst of all, I decided to employ my limited math skills to figure out her age, since I suspected she’s close to mine. I found that if she did the typical educational path through law school, she’s exactly the same age as I am.

All at once, I was not a real attorney, just a pretender. Hello, Imposter.

This is not the first time I’ve felt the sting of Imposter Syndrome. Typically, my immediate response to getting a raise is typically, “Are you sure? You don’t have to give me a raise.” Like I’m not even on my own team. In most cases, news of a pay bump is, somehow, worse than criticism. My brain can deal with “work harder.” My brain can’t deal with the notion that I’ve earned a raise. My brain can’t process the idea that my work is worth money, let alone more money. I’m a farm girl from Idaho. I can’t possibly be worth that much.

A phenomenon documented in the late-1970s by two female clinical psychologists, Imposter Syndrome has become a term often used to describe the feeling that we’ve somehow tricked everyone in our lives (especially our employers) into believing we can do things we’re not actually qualified to do. Our brains wholly disregard our abilities, accomplishments, degrees, and life experiences and instead constantly tell us that we are, in fact, nothing more than frauds, pretending to be better and smarter than we actually are.

My first memory of experiencing Imposter Syndrome is from when I started as a graduate student at Arizona State University. I did not have the same impressive backgrounds as those in my cohort. I was from a rural state, not somewhere glamorous like New York or Los Angeles. I grew up on a farm. What made me think I belonged in graduate school? Who was I to think I could earn a graduate degree?

I accomplished my goals as a journalist and earned my degree. And when I was accepted into law school, the Imposter was right there to greet me. You were just lucky to get through grad school; you won’t be able to trick them in law school.

That Imposter has been my constant companion: when I graduated from law school; when I passed the bar; when I got a clerkship; when I got my first job as an attorney. 

But man, am I tired of her.

There are many helpful articles discussing Imposter Syndrome and how to combat it, among them this New York Times article and this NPR article. Tips include making a list of all of your accomplishments and saying positive affirmations out loud. And I think there’s another important thing that women can do to overcome, something I’ve done repeatedly when I feel less-than: suit up in some powerful clothes and get the fucking job done.

Applying those tips, I decided I needed to reevaluate my conclusion about not measuring up to the dynamic mediation duo. After all, I have a fancy card in my wallet that says I’m a licensed attorney. I’m allowed to put the word “esquire” after my name in emails and letters.

I started by figuring out why I was comparing myself to this queen attorney. The answer is that she might be close to my age, she’s a woman, and she’s an attorney. Those are the only things I know we have in common.

Rihanna and Lady Gaga are close to my age. I don’t compare myself to them.

I started by looking at how different my background is from hers. As I did so, I started to realize that those three commonalities are the only ones I can find. Otherwise, our backgrounds are completely different.

Another stark difference is that she probably had a goal of attending an Ivy League school. She worked very hard to accomplish that goal, and that formed the foundation for all of her other very impressive accomplishments.

But I did not have the goal of attending an Ivy League school. Sure, I thought about it, but it was more like a fantasy; it was not a solid goal I worked toward obtaining. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be a lawyer until I was 27. By that age, this amazing attorney had already passed the bar and was working hard at a law firm.

The point in this analysis is putting into perspective who I am and who she is. There’s no reason to compare myself to her, no point in comparing her path to mine. It’s like comparing apples to orangutans.

That shift in perspective to focusing on my life, my background, my accomplishments, helps me fight away the Imposter.

So, before I met this impressive attorney in person, in addition to finding an outfit that made me feel powerful, my plan was to list five things I’ve accomplished, things that are objectively impressive to remind myself that I’m not an Imposter; I earned my spot in that room, just like she did.