Everything is fine?

I have told this story many times before.

It’s about that voice in my head that says that I don’t really belong here. About always working just a little harder than necessary, just to be sure as ‘it has to be good’. About not saying no, even if I felt that it was too much. Nearly 10 years ago I called it imposter syndrome (in Dutch). That gave it something tangible. Something that I could recognise, name, and even maybe solve.

But let’s be honest, it has not really disappeared.

If I look back, I see the same pattern as in my student days. Always wanting to prove that I am good enough to be here. Always afraid that someone may find out that that is not really the case. I wrote about it often, in the hope that writing it down would help let go.

That was too optimistic.

Last year I was back in its midst again. A period in which everything felt heavy, but you still go on. Stopping does not seem to be an option. And you think that it’s your fault. That you are simply not good enough to deal with pressure, expectations, yourself.

This time, along with my supervisor and HR, I decided to do things differently. I got a coach. That is more confrontational than writing about it.

If someone is slowly drowning, colleagues often see this before the person themself

Writing is analysing. Coaching is about change. About setting boundaries when it is needed. Stopping when you would normally rush on. Admitting that something is too much without first playing it down.

What I see more and more is that this story is not only about me. My drive to prove myself fits well in a system where it is never completely clear when you are ‘enough’. Where promotion criteria are vague, expectations implied, and success hard to define.

But the problem is not only in the system. It is also in how we deal with each other. If someone is slowly drowning, colleagues often see this before the person themself. We see it if someone becomes quieter. Or more cynical. Or overly productive. When someone says for the third time that things “are fine” while everyone else sees that this is not the case.

And yet we rarely raise the alarm.

Maybe because we are afraid to meddle in something personal. Maybe because stress and overwork have become so normal that it hardly stands out. How well we have started to rationalise alarm signals is perhaps my biggest concern in our culture – “A busy period”, “Things will quieten down after the deadline”.

While we have known for a long time that this is often not the case.

Perhaps a culture of care also involves how we see each other. Not because we are responsible for each other’s mental health, but because we often see when someone is struggling sooner than the person themself. The question is then not if we should be each other’s therapist, but if we are prepared to carry out an uncomfortable conversation. And do so before someone again disappears behind deadlines and “it’s fine!” until it is not fine anymore.