“It’s hard to say this, but we made a mistake. We actually meant to admit a different M___.”
After receiving my acceptance into medical school, I was very cautious of who I told because I am extremely superstitious. I thought I would jinx myself if I told the wrong person, and then I would receive the inevitable call from Admissions about the error they had made. This call was my biggest fear the entire summer before starting medical school. Surely, even without jinxing myself, they would discover their mistake in June, July, or most definitely before August.
“Once they give me the white coat, there’s no take-backsies, right?” This was one of my first thoughts during orientation. Looking around at my classmates, I did not feel like I belonged. How could they have picked me when everyone else around me is so much better? Ivy League graduates, scientists with dozens of first author publications, Peace Corps volunteers, and me. Am I worthy to even be studying alongside my classmates?
For the first semester, every post-exam period I wondered secretly if this was my last set of exams. Would the administration see that I was not progressing appropriately and should not even be here? Would they realize they should have taken someone off the waitlist who had better qualifications than me? Undoubtedly, there was someone more qualified than me for this spot. Someone on the waitlist had to be better at medical science with more patient and leadership experiences than me. This hypothetical person has plagued me for a long time, making me wonder if I should be here when I am so ordinary.
Feeling inadequate has been something that has afflicted me for so long throughout medical school, but I have finally come to terms with it. Besides, it is not unique to me. We have all felt like imposters at least at some point here, and it is normal.
This unworthy feeling has actually been useful for me. As a result of it, I have a desire to constantly strive for more from myself every day. It has left me more open to advice, criticism, and new information. It allows me to listen to everyone, from a medical school friend to standardized patients to the physicians we work with on a daily basis. Synthesizing all the knowledge I gain from them, I glean insight that will hopefully one day lead me towards feeling like a proper member of this community.
Truthfully, these feelings make me more productive. Nowadays, instead of worrying if I am a worthy member of my class, I worry I will lose this drive to push myself constantly. Imposter’s Syndrome is real, and it plagues all of us. Instead of hiding it, I suggest using its vulnerability to become a more insightful physician.
- Anonymous, M2
