Dealing with Imposter Syndrome as an Artist

Watch my full Rome vlog here!

As an artist, I have always struggled with something I think we all have dealt with at one point, and that is imposter syndrome. According to Oxford Languages, imposter syndrome is, “the persistent inability to believe that one's success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one's own efforts or skills,”.

When you work on a project from start to finish and see it at every stage in its creation, it’s so easy to truly appreciate its beauty. At least for me, I see every mark I messed up or every line that wasn’t perfectly straight, or a million other flaws in each and every thing I create.

Within my major of graphic design, imposter syndrome always hits the hardest when I am starting a project and when I am going to class critique. At the beginning, I usually make myself anxious wondering how I am going to be as creative as or live up to the student examples the professors show us from previous classes. Sometimes I spend the entire class sketching layouts and compositions in my sketchbook before I actually feel confident enough to put my pencil on paper or open an Illustrator artboard.

And then bringing in my final projects to our class critiques always makes me nervous because I wonder if mine will be the worst one there and I compare my work to the work from everyone else.

And in reality, I do love what I create and I don’t ever think it’s the worst one there. I’m quite proud of the work I create, especially within my major. But it’s a struggle to get out of that mindset sometimes, especially when going to an intense art and design school like the Savannah College of Art & Design (where I attend, and love). And having OCD and dealing with perfectionism definitely does not help at all.

Last winter, I applied for a study abroad program at SCAD for Figure Drawing in Italy. I’ve been wanting to go to Italy for years since my family is originally from there. And this seemed like the perfect opportunity since it would be three weeks in Florence & Rome with my school.

I tried not to get my hopes up when I was applying because there are hundreds of students who are interested and applying to study abroad from both the Atlanta and Savannah campuses. And this was a Figure Drawing II course, but I had never even taken Figure Drawing I.

That being said, I did get accepted and I was so excited to go. Art History is one of my favorite subjects and I was particularly excited to see and learn more about all the Renaissance and Baroque artworks I’ve studied in classes (Gian Lorenzo Bernini!!!) But I was also nervous in the back of my head, although I tried to not let myself think about it.

When we got to Florence, I was already in my head on the very first day. There were 16 of us on the trip and everyone besides me and one other girl was a drawing or painting major, and had a lot more experience than I did. Seeing everyone else sketch so quickly and have them turn out incredible was so intimidating. I was still trying to figure out how to draw a facial structure. The basics.

For the first few days, I really just tried to hide during class hours. I would sketch as much as possible and try to teach myself, but I kept my sketchbook close to my chest and I often opted for my smaller sketchbook over my larger, professor-preferred one. I would go back to the hotel after class and sketch in private until I fell asleep. That way, I could try to learn and practice as much as possible without worrying that anyone was going to see what I was working on.

What if I mess it up? What if it looks terrible? What if I can’t do it? Everybody else’s sketches look so good.

One night, we had a smaller group with us. Half of the students went back to the hotel for the night, and half of us were going to a movie with our professor. Before the movie, he took us to a few statues to sketch to kill time. Because there were so little of us, I couldn’t really avoid anything. He came over and asked how I’ve been doing and what I had been working on.

My heart was beating so fast, but I showed him my sketchbook. I got to talking about how I was feeling a lot of imposter syndrome and I felt out of place since I was the only graphic design major on a drawing study abroad trip. He immediately shut it down and told me that I was there for a reason and he chose all of us because he saw something in us. He told me I deserved to be there.

He also opened up about him having imposter syndrome as a teacher and that every artist deals with it too. And I didn’t feel alone anymore. I actually almost cried during this conversation, but I held it together. He asked me what I wanted help with specifically, and I told him faces. So he walked me through it as much as I needed him to. And he didn’t make me feel embarrassed or unworthy or stupid. He told me I brought a different perspective to the class as a designer rather than a painter, and that’s what actually made me special. Not less-than. Special. Unique.

He told me about his warrior voices. When your head is filled with doubts and the imposter syndrome is too loud, your warrior voices can fight them. They are positive thoughts, like affirmations.

I can do this. I deserve to be here. I am talented. I am an artist.

This is something that stuck with me for the rest of the trip, and I believe will stick with me for a long time after as well.

I also realized in that conversation that it was okay to ask for help. This whole time, I had been trying to watch YouTube tutorials at the hotel and try to teach myself, but it was only making my anxiety worse. I started asking him more questions and I learned so much. My drawing skills were already improving.

After a week in Florence, we went to Rome for the rest of the trip. While I was definitely learning a lot and I felt so much better about my abilities, the imposter syndrome never fully went away.

There was one day in Rome we spent at Università di Roma. I was getting discouraged with drawing all these figures and statues every day because I was constantly comparing my work to everybody else’s. I was sitting at a table at the University Museum, drawing some of the nearby statues.

My professor came up to me and told me he wanted me to have a different assignment than everyone else that day. Instead of drawing the statues like normal, he wanted me to focus on layout, catering more towards my graphic design background. The table I was sitting at was surrounded by stelae so he wanted me to focus on those.

Before he left me to it, he asked if I wanted help on anything else and I asked him for help on the picture I had been working on at that moment (see above, right). He explained how the human body is just made up of shapes that overlap and connect, and he taught me about cast shadows and core shadows. When he was done drawing it out in my sketchbook for me, I quickly wrote notes down so I wouldn’t forget anything. He watched me label things, write things down, and draw arrows. He complimented me on it and said he could tell I was a good student. Writing notes down didn’t seem like a big deal to me, but it showed me that I have other natural gifts or strengths even if I wasn’t the best in the class at drawing. Every time I spoke with him, my imposter syndrome went away more and more.

When he left, I started analyzing the layouts of the stelae instead of trying to draw them exactly. I learned so much about how the creators of them laid them out and how everything could be broken down into similar shapes. I color-coded the charts so I was able to see and study them better.

And I started drawing without as much pressure. I was starting with the basics. Laying out the entire structure of a figure or a statue drawing with just shapes. Looking at size and proportion. Proximity. Things that were familiar to me as a designer. It made drawing figures so much less intimidating. Before, I had been trying to draw all the details in and try to get every line and curve perfect on my first try. I didn’t know you could just draw the basic structure with circles and squares and that would make things so much easier.

And for the first time on the entire excursion, I was fully proud of something I did. This felt so much more me. And I am so grateful for my professor for not only helping me with figure drawing, but also seeing my potential and catering this experience for me to what I am studying and what my art style is. He believed in me and saw something in me when even I didn’t, and because of that, I learned so much and was able to trust and be proud of myself.

And two other students came up to me and when they saw what I was working on, they gave me so many compliments and told me how cool it was. Yes, it was completely different than the carbon-copy charcoal drawings of sculptures in their sketchbooks (which, again, were absolutely incredible). And yes, mine aren’t perfectly rendered. But I put my own background and creativity and love into these pages and they are a reflection of my uniqueness and what I can bring to the table as a non-fine arts major.

In our final sketchbook check of the program, we looked through my sketchbooks and he saw all the progress I made and the difference between my original pages and what I had been working on since he started seeing me. He told me something that has stuck with me ever since.

“Stop trying to be a fine arts student and just be a designer.”

And then, it clicked for me. I wasn’t chosen for this program because SCAD wanted me to learn how to become a world-renowned figure artist. I was chosen for this program because of what I already can do and because I had a background and perspective that was different than anyone else on the trip. I didn’t need to draw like everybody else did because I had my own unique skillset and vision. And that is what got me on that trip. And I deserved to be there as much as anyone else did.

I started having more fun with my sketchbooks and pouring myself into them and that is when I learned the most. Not only about figure drawing, but also about myself. And I came out of this experience as a better artist, and a more confident one.

Getting back to Atlanta from Italy, we had two final projects to work on for the class. And instead of worrying about them being perfect, I had fun with them, and I am more proud of them than I ever expected I would be.

If you’re struggling with imposter syndrome, remember, every single one of us is too. Sometimes you just need to remember who you are and what you bring to the table. Your uniqueness is what makes you special and deserving. And you might need a little push sometimes. Surround yourself with people who believe in you. Ask for help. Listen to your warrior voices. And never try to be anything other than yourself.

See into my sketchbook below and watch my vlog from Rome here!