Beyond Imposter Syndrome

We talk a lot about Imposter Syndrome in the tech world. That nagging, fraudulent feeling that we’re just one tough question away from being exposed as a complete novice. It’s a real and debilitating struggle for many brilliant engineers. But what about its opposite? What about the engineer who feels perpetually overlooked, convinced their skills are top-tier, yet their influence and title don’t reflect it?

This is the person simmering with frustration because they weren’t invited to the architecture meeting. They’re the one quietly (or not so quietly) believing they’re long overdue for that senior promotion, even if the evidence isn’t clear to others.

This isn’t just arrogance or entitlement, though it can certainly look that way from the outside. It’s a more nuanced problem, a sort of inverse imposter syndrome. I call it Protagonist Syndrome.

Protagonist Syndrome is the persistent belief that your contribution and skill level are significantly higher than how they’re perceived and rewarded, leading to frustration and a feeling of being undervalued. It comes from seeing yourself as the main character in the team's story, whose personal journey should be the central plot. It’s a painful place to be, and it’s a massive barrier to the very growth and recognition you crave.

Let's break down the truths that give birth to this feeling and the myths that keep it alive.

The Truths: Where This Feeling Comes From

If we’re going to help ourselves or our teammates navigate Protagonist Syndrome, we first have to understand that it often grows from a place of genuine talent. It's not a delusion that comes from nowhere.

Truth #1: You Are Genuinely Good at Your Core Task

Most engineers wrestling with Protagonist Syndrome are actually quite competent. They can write clean code, solve complex tickets, and deliver on well-defined tasks. The frustration doesn’t stem from an inability to do the work, but from a proficiency in their current role that feels like it should automatically unlock the next one. They've mastered the art of being a great cook, and now they're wondering why they aren't being treated like the executive chef.

Truth #2: You See the Destination, But Not the Path

You see the title—"Senior Engineer," "Staff Engineer"—and you want it. You see the meeting on the calendar—"Q4 Architectural Review"—and you feel you belong there. The destination is crystal clear in your mind. What’s often invisible, however, is the treacherous, unpaved path that leads there. It’s a path littered with skills that don’t always show up in a pull request: mentorship, navigating ambiguity, building cross-team consensus, and translating business needs into technical strategy.

Truth #3: The Feedback Loop Might Actually Be Broken

Sometimes, the frustration is valid. A manager might be failing to provide a clear, actionable roadmap for growth. Expectations for the next level might be vague or inconsistent. In a fast-paced environment, it’s easy for deep, career-focused conversations to get pushed aside. This lack of clear guidance can create a vacuum, and our own ambition is more than happy to fill it with the assumption that we’ve already done enough.

The Myths: The Mindsets That Keep You Stuck

While the feelings are rooted in some truth, they are sustained by some powerful myths. Challenging these beliefs is the first step toward true, undeniable influence.

Myth #1: "My Technical Prowess Is All That Matters"

This is the biggest myth of all. Yes, your ability to code is your ticket to the game. But at a certain point, the game changes. Senior-level impact isn’t about being the best player on the field; it’s about making the entire team better. It’s about leverage. Can you write a design doc that saves three other engineers a month of work? Can you mentor a junior dev so effectively that they become a force multiplier? Your personal output has a ceiling. Your influence doesn't.

Myth #2: "An Invitation Is a Stamp of Approval"

That exclusive architecture meeting isn’t a VIP lounge for the best coders. It’s a working session for the people needed to solve a specific, high-stakes problem. You don’t get invited as a reward for past work; you get invited because your perspective is essential for the future work. The question to ask isn't, "Why wasn't I invited?" The question to ask is, "How can I make my perspective so valuable that they can't afford not to invite me?"

Myth #3: "If They Don't See My Value, It's Their Fault"

This is the hardest myth to let go of because it shifts ownership away from us. It’s comforting to believe we’re a hidden gem and that our manager or director is just a poor jeweler. But stewardship of our gifts means we’re also responsible for helping others see their value. This isn't about bragging or shameless self-promotion. It's about connecting your work to the business goals. It's about sharing what you've learned with your team in a way that elevates everyone.

The Edge Case: What if You’re a Redwood in a Bonsai Pot?

But let's pause here for a moment and address a critical tangent. What if you’ve done the honest self-assessment, you’ve worked to dispel these myths, and you’ve come to a clear-eyed conclusion: You are ready, but there’s simply nowhere to go.

This happens. You might be the most talented engineer at a small startup with a flat structure. You're a Redwood tree, genetically designed for soaring heights, but you're planted in the tiny, confining pot of a small organization. Your growth has outpaced the company's ability to provide a formal path forward. There is no "Senior" title to chase because you're already operating at that level, and the company isn't large enough to need a "Staff" role.

The danger here is a different kind of stagnation. The frustration is real and valid. It can curdle into bitterness or cause you to shrink your ambitions to fit the size of your pot, which is a tragedy. The challenge isn't to prove you deserve a promotion that doesn't exist; the challenge is to continue your growth in a way that either expands the pot or prepares you for a transplant into a forest where you have room to grow.

The Path Forward: From Frustration to Authentic Influence

So, how do we dismantle Protagonist Syndrome—or navigate the "Bonsai Pot" problem—and build the career we feel we're called to? It's not about lowering our ambitions, but about channeling them in a more productive direction.

Shift Your Focus from Clout to Craft. Instead of chasing the trappings of seniority (the title, the meeting invites), double down on becoming an undeniable expert in your domain. Become the person everyone turns to for a specific technology or part of the codebase. True influence is a byproduct of mastery, not a goal in itself. For the engineer in the small pot, this is how you make the business case for creating a new, higher-level role.
Lead from Where You Are. You don't need a new title to start acting like a leader. Pick up the messy, undefined ticket that no one wants. Offer to write the first draft of a design doc. Proactively mentor the new hire who looks overwhelmed. Stop waiting for permission to solve bigger problems. Your current role is not a waiting room; it's a training ground. This is how you demonstrate impact that is portable, valuable to your current team and any future one.
Seek to Understand, Then to Be Understood. Instead of wondering why you weren't in the room, find someone who was. Buy them coffee. Ask them, "What problems were you trying to solve? What were the biggest challenges?" Your curiosity and desire to serve the team's goals will get you noticed far faster than your complaints about the invite list.

Ultimately, both Imposter Syndrome and Protagonist Syndrome are thieves. They steal our joy in the work and blind us to the truth. The imposter tells us we don't belong in the story, and the protagonist tells us the story is only about us. Both fixate on the self. The cure is to find our purpose in the craft itself and in serving those around us. When we do that, the recognition we seek often finds us when we're no longer looking for it.