More Than Enough: Shedding the Lies Behind Imposter Syndrome

You are not the problem. But the systems, messaging, and survival strategies that shaped your leadership journey have tried to convince you otherwise. Especially if you are a Black woman leader who is the first, one of the few, or the only in the room, you know what it feels like to constantly question if you belong. You know what it feels like to succeed and still wonder if you've done enough. You know what it means to hold your brilliance in check for fear of being too much, too loud, or too visible.

We call it imposter syndrome. But what if it’s not you? What if what we’ve labeled as a personal confidence issue is actually the impact of long-term systemic exclusion? In my work with high-achieving Black women, I see it time and again. The feeling of inadequacy is often rooted not in ability, but in absence:

• The absence of mirrors that reflect our excellence.

• The absence of systems built to support our success.

• The absence of language that validates our lived experience.

  
  

Let’s break this down.

What feels like personal inadequacy? That’s often a symptom of systemic exclusion.

So what is systemic exclusion?

It’s the ways institutions, corporate cultures, and leadership pipelines were never designed with us in mind. It’s how boardrooms lack representation and mentorship is limited or conditional. It’s pay gaps that persist, feedback that’s coded, and professional standards that center whiteness. It’s being left out of key conversations, policies that penalize instead of support, and “leadership styles” that weren’t made to include your voice, tone, or truth.

Systemic exclusion looks like being evaluated more harshly for the same mistakes, or not being given the room to make them at all. It looks like working twice as hard for half the recognition. It’s the exhaustion that comes with being both hyper-visible and overlooked.

That constant self-monitoring? That’s not a personality flaw. It’s a generational message rooted in survival. Many of us were taught to stay small, safe, and silent. To be twice as good, to not make waves, and to protect our families and futures by contorting ourselves into acceptable versions of leadership.

And the self-doubt? That’s the voice of our survival selves, the perfectionist, the overachiever, the strong one doing what they were designed to do: keep us safe. But safety isn’t the same as liberation. These survival selves helped us get here. But they are not the leaders we’re becoming.

So what do we do now?

We shed the lies. We unlearn what was never ours to carry. We give ourselves permission to take up space, speak without apology, and lead from a place of truth.

We remember: We are not broken. We are becoming.

To the Black woman leader reading this, especially the first, few, and only:

You are not an imposter. You are evidence of what happens when brilliance persists despite the odds.

Keep becoming. And let the world catch up.