The Real You: Overcoming Imposter Syndrome

Have you ever felt like a fraud, as though you’re just making it up as you go, and one day the world will discover you aren’t as capable as they thought? This feeling can appear in professional life, family life, religious life.

For several years after I graduated, I had a recurring nightmare: the registrar’s office called to demand my diploma back because I hadn’t really earned it. Even now, after more than 20 years serving as a community rabbi, I catch myself thinking, “Who am I to give this sermon, officiate at this wedding, answer that question, or give that class?”

If you’ve ever felt this way, you are not alone. Studies show that as many as 70% of people experience what psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes in 1978 coined “imposter syndrome.” It’s the conviction that your accomplishments aren’t truly earned—that success comes from luck, timing, or having somehow fooled others into thinking you’re competent. A feeling of faking it on the outside while imprisoned by a gnawing feeling of unworthiness on the inside.  Doctors feel it. Lawyers feel it. Parents feel it. Rabbis feel it.

And great Jewish leaders felt it too.

When Aaron was called to serve in the Tabernacle on its opening day, the Torah describes him hesitating. Rashi explains that Aaron felt unworthy, like a fraud. Moses, who once resisted his own calling by insisting he wasn’t a speaker or a leader, reassured him: “Why are you ashamed? You were chosen for this.”

That moment reframes imposter syndrome. It is not weakness—it is part of the human experience, even for the greatest among us.

The countdown to Rosh Hashanah has begun. It’s the start of a new year, a new beginning, when you can be freed from prison of self-doubt, from the false narrative you tell yourself, from the limitations you impose on who you can be.

God sees not only where you fall short, but He knows the best version of yourself—the moments when you rose above, when you were patient, loving, disciplined, and strong. He knows that is your true self. The slip-ups, shortcomings and failures are the aberrations, not the other way around.

Don’t mistakenly think the real you is the one who loses your cool with your spouse or children, the one who looks at the wrong things when nobody is looking or indulges the urge to say the wrong thing to curry favor with the listener. It’s a mistake to think that when you show up despite your shortcomings, when you occasionally get it right, that makes you an imposter.

The truth is that when you are able to stay calm and be patient with those you love, when you have the discipline to do the right thing despite being tempted to follow your urge, that is who you really are, that is the true you.

Don’t dismiss your best moments as exceptions, flukes, or lucky breaks. Those moments reveal what God already knows—that you carry extraordinary potential.

When the shofar sounds each morning during the month of Elul and on Rosh Hashanah, it doesn’t call you to wallow in guilt. The Rambam writes that it awakens you to look into your soul, to remember who you really are and what you are capable of. The repentance of Rosh Hashanah not about confession of sins—that comes on Yom Kippur. Rosh Hashanah’s teshuvah is about recognizing your best self and realigning with that vision.

As Rav Kook wrote in Oros HaTeshuvah, “The primary role of teshuvah is to return to one’s true self, to the root of one’s soul.”

You are defined by your strength, not your weaknesses; you are your best moments, not your worst. While you have to take ownership and responsibility for your failures, you deserve the success and achievements you have earned.

Don’t dismiss your best moments as exceptions, flukes, or lucky breaks. Those moments are the real you. They reveal what God already knows—that you carry extraordinary potential. Believe it, embrace it, nurture it, repeat it, and grow it.

This year, instead of limiting your challenges, challenge your limits.