[Raising Durham] Comparison – and the Voice in Your Head – Are Thieves of Joy

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Most nights around 3 a.m., I wake up with the same uneasy feeling. The first thought that surfaces is usually some version of: What was I thinking?

I’ve never done anything quite like this before. There are people who have trained for this, built entire careers around it, and probably have better answers than I do. What if I’m not the right person for the job? What if someone else could do it better?

Naming the Feeling

For a long time, I assumed this was just nerves. But I’ve come to understand it more clearly as impostor syndrome. And while I only recently put a name to it, I now recognize that it has been with me in various iterations for most of my life.

You can probably relate.

Impostor syndrome often shows up when I’m doing something that feels important. It creeps in during meetings, conversations with donors, and moments when I need to speak with confidence about the work I care so deeply about. The feeling is not about whether I believe in Harper’s Home. I do, with my whole heart. I know what this work means, and I know how much consideration and care has gone into every step. But when doubt creeps in, I find myself questioning whether I’m polished enough, experienced enough, or convincing enough to carry it forward.

When Doubt Gets Loud

What surprises me most is how quickly those doubts lead me to question the very instincts that have served me well time and again. When I am in a place of confidence, I trust my ability to read the room, to respond with clarity, and to connect with people in a way that feels natural and grounded. When impostor syndrome rears its ugly head, I forget that I already know how to do this and I second-guess every move. I revise sentences in my head while I’m still saying them out loud. Afterward, I perseverate over what I said and how I could have done better.

Recently, I met with someone who was interested in volunteering. We had already connected several times through email and text, but this was our first in-person meeting. I felt scattered and unfocused, and I apologized for it. Without hesitation, she smiled and said, “If that’s you out of sorts, I’ll take that any day.” I’ve thought about that comment a lot.

A few days later, I admitted to two acquaintances that I often feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. They both looked surprised. Then they told me they see me as one of the most articulate, confident, and grounded people they know. I didn’t know what to say in response.

The Gap Between Perception and Reality

This disconnect between how we see ourselves and how others experience us is at the heart of impostor syndrome. It often shows up when we care deeply about the outcome, and it’s fueled by the fear that someone else is better suited to lead, to speak, or to be trusted.

But maybe impostor syndrome is not something to silence or avoid. Maybe it’s trying to tell us something. It shows up when we are growing, when we’re stretching beyond what we’ve done before. That discomfort might be the very proof that we’re on the right path.

What Helps Me Move Through It

Still, it helps to have tools when the doubt shows up. Here are a few that work for me.

How I Work Through Impostor Syndrome

• I name it and say it out loud. Recognizing the pattern and talking about it helps break the spell. It shifts the focus from shame to self-awareness and often invites connection.
• I speak to myself the way I’d speak to a friend. When my thoughts turn critical, I ask what I’d say if someone were talking that way about someone I care about. I would interrupt them and tell them they’re wrong. So I try to offer that same kindness to myself.
• I remind myself to trust my instincts. They’ve guided me well through some of the most uncertain and scariest moments of my life.
• I save notes and kind messages from people who have affirmed my work. I think about how my daughter sees me, believes in me,  and cheers me on. When I lose perspective, I revisit those words of confidence.
• I focus on why I’m doing this. The purpose and the need behind the work is steadier than my emotions in any given moment.
  

You Belong, Even When You Don’t Feel Like It

Impostor syndrome might not ever fully go away. It might still tap me on the shoulder during sleepless nights or big conversations. But I don’t need to let it take over. I can hear it, acknowledge it, and keep going anyway.

If you’ve felt this too, please know you are not alone. Doubt doesn’t mean you’re not qualified. It means you’re human. And if you are doing something that matters to you and showing up with integrity and care, then you’re doing it right.

You belong, even when it’s hard to believe it. And you’re more capable than that late-night voice would ever let on.

Heather Hindin is a Durham-based educator and single parent to 11-year-old Harper. With a career dedicated to equity in education, Heather brings both professional insight and personal experience to Southpoint Access. As the mother of a pediatric cancer survivor, she understands the importance of community and candor in overcoming parenting challenges. Together, Harper and Heather advocate for pediatric cancer awareness and research. They’ve founded Harper’s Home, a non-profit providing affordable housing to families with children receiving treatment at Duke. Heather’s Raising Durham: Tales from a Bull City Mom column offers a blend of practical advice, compassion, and community engagement, drawn from her journey as an educator, advocate, and most importantly, a mom.