Dr. Amanda Dolan

The Productivity Phantom has concerns about your pace. You finished a paragraph. It noticed you have not finished the chapter. You completed a course. It would like to discuss why the degree is taking so long. It is an enthusiastic supporter of your goals, provided you achieve them slightly faster than circumstances allow. In There’s a Monster Under My Suit, the reminder attached to this particular monster is simple: “Slowness is not failure. It’s sustainability.” That idea b

Education is an interesting profession in which to admit you do not know something. We encourage questions, value revision, and remind students that understanding takes time. Then someone uses an unfamiliar term in a meeting, and we write it down to investigate later...discreetly. We believe in lifelong learning. We would simply prefer to appear further along. That tension becomes especially pronounced in a profession with so many formal ways to demonstrate how far we have co

You walk into a room where everyone seems to know the language, the rules, and precisely when to nod. You have earned your place there. Still, a small voice asks, How long until they realize I don’t belong? In There’s a Monster Under My Suit, I give that voice a shape. Sometimes it is the Credential Crawler, insisting that one more qualification will finally settle the question. Sometimes it is the Approval Gremlin, studying every pause and expression for a verdict. These mon

The Approval Gremlin is always reading the room. It watches faces, counts replies, notices who was invited, and keeps an especially close eye on punctuation. It can find meaning in almost anything, including things that may not mean anything at all. An unanswered email? Rejection. A quiet audience? Disapproval. A short reply with a period? Something has clearly gone terribly wrong. The Approval Gremlin appears in There’s a Monster Under My Suit as the part of us that watches

Sometimes it begins with a scroll. A former classmate published an article. A colleague earned a promotion. Someone else is traveling, changing careers, or celebrating another milestone. You are happy for them. And then a question surfaces: Should I have done that too? That is when the Should Shark starts circling. It Feeds on Other People’s Timelines The Should Shark searches your past for different choices. You should have taken that job. You should have gone back to school

You earned the degree. You got the promotion. You became the person people ask for advice. Your calendar is full. Your inbox is fuller. Your name appears on programs, publications, presentations, and professional bios. From the outside, you look confident. Capable. Established. But underneath the polished suit, the monster may still be whispering: What if they realize I don’t really belong here? We often assume accomplishment will eventually make imposter syndrome disappear.

You did the thing. You got the promotion. Finished the degree. Led the meeting. Submitted the work. Walked into the new room. For a moment, there is relief. Maybe I really can do this. And then, somehow, the doubt finds its way back in. That is one of the frustrating things about imposter syndrome. Success does not always make it disappear. In fact, success can sometimes give it a brand-new place to hide. This is where the imposter syndrome cycle helps us understand what is h

The phrase imposter syndrome is everywhere today. We use it to describe that nagging feeling that we're one mistake away from being exposed as not smart enough, experienced enough, or qualified enough. Ironically, that isn't the phrase the original researchers used. In 1978, psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes introduced what they called the Imposter Phenomenon. Their work drew on the experiences of more than 150 high-achieving women, many in academic and profession

Most of us carry a monster under our suit. Sometimes it hides under a blazer before an important presentation. Sometimes it sneaks into a classroom, a boardroom, or a Zoom meeting. It whispers the same familiar lies: You don't belong here. You're not as capable as everyone thinks. Eventually, they're going to figure you out. Here's the part we don't say out loud nearly enough. It doesn't matter how experienced, successful, or credentialed you are. Those thoughts don't magical