Starting a new career path is challenging, no matter your industry. Many of us question our skills and talents before we even begin, convincing ourselves that it’s better to not even try. Quit before you start. Stick with what you’re good at. Stick with what you already know.

That feeling that you are somehow lying to people, that you will be found out as a trickster and a fraud if they knew the real you, is not a new idea. The concept of The Impostor Phenomenon was developed back in the 70s, and though the modern interpretation of the phenomenon as a syndrome has led to misunderstanding and misrepresentation in the media, the idea at its core, the feeling that everyone else knows what they’re doing and you’re the odd one out, is still very much alive.

Feeling like you don’t belong is alienating. It makes you doubt your work, struggle to make decisions and hesitate to disagree with others. And when you’re a rookie first responder, bubbling with anxiety and self-doubt, surrounded by people who are looking to you to fix whatever emergency is unfolding before them, it’s honestly terrifying.

On those first few calls, it can feel like you’re drowning in responsibility and the pressure to make the right decision. And the secret that no one knows, that you can’t let anyone find out, is that you don’t actually know what you’re doing. You’re standing in a room full of people, all ready to trust your judgment, but in your head, you’re screaming that you have never done this before and have no idea how you’re supposed to help.

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The nagging insecurity of being secretly underqualified, the low-level unease of someone finding out that you don’t know what you’re doing, weren’t new feelings for me when I started my career in the medical field. I am somewhat of a career chameleon, flip-flopping from one profession to the next with the change in seasons, never feeling comfortable unless I am planning the next move, the next destination. New jobs bring new adventure, new skills to master, new experiences and new excitements, but they also bring a learning curve. An adjustment period. A slew of errors you have to make before you can learn to be better.

So, when I started work as a Paramedic, when the consequences of making the wrong decision were much higher than a few burnt coffees, I found this negative self-doubt propelled to the front of my mind. I had completed my schooling, passed all the tests, but there was still a voice in my head telling me that I had somehow cheated the system. That I was playing dress-up at a real career. I felt like I was the only one stumbling through the job on luck and insecurities, and everyone else around me would quickly find out that I wasn’t one of them. That I didn’t belong.

Over the years, I have learnt to quiet this voice through practice and experience, and being thrown head first into the kind of situations most only see once in a lifetime. And while the worlds of paramedicine and creative writing are two very different domains, the lessons I’ve learnt from one can’t help but bleed over into the other.

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The feeling that you’re a charlatan, that you’re the sheep amongst the wolves, the odd one out just waiting to trip up, has far more to do with how you see yourself than how others perceive you, and is spurred on by the incorrect assumption we all have, that other people somehow have it all figured out. That we were playing hooky the day they handed out the road map to life, and we’re the only ones left still wondering where the hell to go from here.

I liken it to the assumption you have as a child that every adult, by default, knows what they’re doing. They’re adults, with jobs, houses, credit cards, responsibilities, and all the things that make up an adult life, so they must have their shit together and know things that you don’t, right? It’s only when you get a little older that you realize, in reality, no one knows what they’re doing. We are all just figuring it out as we go. Growing up doesn’t make you magically self-assured, confident, and capable. You just get better at pretending.

This blind assumption of others’ skills isn’t a phenomenon restricted only to children and their elders. So many people look at paramedics, firefighters, doctors, and other professional people that are trained to turn up in a crisis, and assume that because these jobs are based on critical decision-making, because the stakes can literally be life and death, that everyone in these professions must know exactly what they’re doing at all times and have complete faith in their own abilities.

And the truth? Is that people are just people, no matter what uniform they wear. One might have extensive training and experience in a particular field, you might be able to think under pressure and excel in high-stress situations, but when it comes down to it, everyone is just trying their best and learning as they go.

The difference I’ve found working as a first responder, compared to the myriad of other professions I’ve dabbled in, is that the ability to trust in your own judgment is not only beneficial, it’s required. When a job demands that you make critical decisions quickly, preferably ten minutes ago and with only a fraction of the information you would like, there isn’t time for self-doubt and second-guessing. It’s easy to learn to give medications and recognize illness, but beyond the hard skills and medical training, there is a mentality integral to the profession that changes more than just your adrenaline response to the shit hitting the fan.

It’s a mentality of forced confidence in your own ability, of knowing yourself and your skills. It’s not about faking it till you make it, but rather a need to trust in yourself and your training, and know that you do, in fact, know what you’re doing. It’s essential to recognize your limitations and take advice and direction from those higher trained, but ultimately, the job is about trusting that you have the skills required to make the right decision and finding the confidence to act.

This doesn’t mean that you do trust yourself. That you’re not still racked by self-doubt and what-ifs after your shift is over. But in the moment, when the decision needs to be made and you are the only one there to make it, the job demands that you make a choice and trust in your own judgment, even if you’d rather not. And the more you’re forced to trust yourself, the more practice you get at silencing that little voice of doubt in your mind. It doesn’t make the doubt disappear, but it forces you to push past it and act anyway.

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And it is this practice: being racked by self-doubt and being forced to act anyway, that can change the way you see yourself and the way you see the world.

Everyone is an impostor. No one knows what they’re doing.

No matter how accomplished they appear, how well known, how popular, or how skilled, every artist struggles with the idea that their work isn’t good enough. Every author hits a point where they feel they’ve forgotten how to write. Every musician has a day where everything they play sounds like garbage. And every artist has a moment when they fear they’ve lost their talent and perhaps never had it in the first place.

We all struggle with self-doubt, especially when starting something new, and though you might never be able to silence that voice entirely, pushing through and acting anyway is the first step to making that voice just a little quieter.

You might not think that your work is good enough, or that you have an actual shot at achieving your goals. So what? Do it anyway. You might be new, and maybe you really don’t know what you’re doing, but the only way to learn is to do it. Make a decision. Make a choice. What’s the worse that could happen? Rejection? Rejection is part of the process, and learning what not to do is just as important as honing your skill and finding your voice as an artist.

So put yourself out there. Failing means you’re trying, so get ready to fail big. Own your self-doubt and use it to push yourself forward. We are all just making it up as we go, so make it up your way. Take the long way round. Do it the hard way. Make the mistakes you have to make so you can do it better next time.

And if you can, stop comparing yourself to others in your field who appear to have everything figured out. It can be easy to project confidence, especially online. It can be easy to make it seem like you know what you’re doing, like you’re working from a cheat sheet and knew the answer before you were even asked the question. But inside, we are all still that bumbling rookie, awkwardly stumbling around in a stiff new uniform, wondering what the hell we’re doing and praying no one will notice we’re way out of our depth.

‘Making it’ as an artist, a writer, a musician or any other creative career, is not about being good or bad. It’s not about knowing what you’re doing or going about things the right way. It’s about finding your audience. Finding that corner of the world where your work can shine and finding the people who are waiting for the thing that only you can create.

So trust in your passion. Trust in your process. Trust that you have the skills to do what needs to be done.

And even if you can’t, do it anyway.