Returning to the Best Old Place of All Without the Imposter Syndrome I Had Before

“I'm not falling behind or running late

I'm not standing still

I am lying in wait”

- Aaron Burr in Hamilton

The first time I heard about imposter syndrome, a syndrome loosely defined as doubting your abilities and feeling like a fraud, was actually during my interview for Princeton. My interviewer, a recent graduate, explained how many Princeton students suffered from it. I was shocked considering how I myself viewed Ivy League students. While it was the first time I had heard the term, it was certainly not the first (or last) time I myself suffered from the same syndrome.

Even before I was a student at Princeton, I remember walking up to the Princeton Preview tent and giving them my name. As the young woman working the tent shuffled through the name tags of accepted students, my heart sank lower and lower the longer she took as I became more and more convinced I had been accepted by mistake. When she finally did find my name tag, I remember sighing a large sigh of relief.

As a pre-med student especially, I struggled to not feel like my sole existence at Princeton was to “help the curve” each time my chemistry and biology grades were not where I wanted them to be. My academic advisor certainly didn’t help when she typecast me by saying “students with [my Hispanic] surname tend[ed] not to do well in the natural sciences.” It felt like I wasn’t just suffering from imposter syndrome, but I was simultaneously having to prove myself to my professors just because I was a first-generation college student and Latina.

Unfortunately, even graduating from Princeton was littered with intrusive thoughts that I wasn’t good enough. It didn’t matter to me that I had graduated magna cum laude from a top university as a first-gen, underrepresented minority student. I felt crushed as others went on to medical school or amazing fellowships at top hospitals and I had to do a pre-med post-bacc to achieve the same. I’d put my AirPods on and blast “Wait For It” by Leslie Odom Jr. from Hamilton and resonate with each word sung by Aaron Burr who also felt like his life was nothing in comparison to Alexander Hamilton’s (although he ironically graduated from Princeton in only three years).

But returning to Princeton for my in-person commencement and first-ever reunions was a completely different experience most likely due to a completely different attitude. Two entire years have passed, and although they’ve gone by quite quickly, so much has happened since I was evacuated from campus in March 2020 due to COVID-19. Perhaps it was surviving a pandemic. Perhaps it was successfully completing my pre-med course requirements. Perhaps it was losing my aunt and suffering through the worst two years of my life. Maybe it was just getting older and wiser.

Whatever it was, I must say my entire outlook and attitude toward feeling like a fraud or doubting my abilities has changed. As I stepped back on campus after two years, threw my hat in the air, caught up with dozens of friends and acquaintances, and celebrated officially being a part of the Princeton tiger family, I realized that I have so much more confidence than I use to; not just in my academic abilities, but in who I am as a person and woman.

I’ve realized so much of what I thought mattered going into Princeton doesn’t. I’ve come to the conclusion that so much of the reason I suffered in my pre-med classes wasn’t my intellect, but my complete lack of preparation and lack of guidance. I now see my own worth, academically and personally, that I didn’t see before. I was meant to go to Princeton, and I did the most with the time and resources I had.

As I came to this realization that everything from Princeton’s beautiful architecture to lush gardens looked the same despite everything inside me feeling different, my RCA’s words from my freshman year echoed in my head: “There’s the Princeton you apply to, the Princeton you get in to, the Princeton you go to, and the Princeton you went to.” Maybe Princeton doesn’t change. Maybe it’s the same rigorous space Aaron Burr occupied exactly 250 years ago. Perhaps it's the way we view ourselves that changes as we change and grow.

Regardless, I’m proud of the progress I’ve made in not letting imposter syndrome weigh me down the way it used to. I’m proud of the confidence I’ve gained despite so many setbacks and trials. I’m proud of being closer to becoming a doctor each day, and knowing the things I’ve suffered through will only allow me to relate to my patients more. I’m proud of what I’ve done for my family and community in not only occupying these spaces, but using my voice and actions to cause positive change. As the ALPA (Association of Latino Princeton Alumni) president, Margaret Sena, reminded us during reunions, “We always say we were lucky to go to Princeton, but Princeton was also lucky to have us.”

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