Quieting Imposter Syndrome

I came to Wesleyan as a walk-on student-athlete who hadn’t taken chemistry since online classes sophomore year of high school. I never took AP Biology, and I certainly wasn’t the type of student stacking community college credits in the summer. Within a month at Wes, it felt like everyone around me had already done research, earned 5s on their AP exams, and knew whether they were headed for medical school or a PhD. That gap fed a constant sense of imposter syndrome. I chose neuroscience because I loved it, but I quickly realized I hadn’t prepared for the major like many of my classmates had.

Sophomore spring, I took my first 300-level neuroscience class: Neuroplasticity. It was the kind of class that highlighted just how intimidating Wesleyan can be. Every discussion felt like a competition to use the most complicated neuro terms in front of the professor. Meanwhile, I was secretly Googling vocabulary after class and rereading the same paragraphs over and over just to catch up.

Our final project was a solo research lecture. Public speaking has never been my strength, and the idea of teaching neuroscience to a room full of people who seemed smarter than me was terrifying. So I worked relentlessly. I dissected every paper until I knew the data inside and out. I built colorful, engaging slides and made sure I understood the complex scientific language well enough to explain it clearly, without hiding behind big words.

When I finally presented, something shifted. My classmates laughed at my jokes, asked questions, and I answered them confidently. For the first time, I realized how much my intro biology, chemistry, and neuroscience courses had prepared me. I knew the material. I had context. I belonged.

My imposter syndrome didn’t vanish that day, but it quieted. I no longer felt like an athlete trying to keep up, I felt like a neuroscience student who was exactly where she was meant to be.