I’ve spent most of my career waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and say, “We’ve figured it out. You don’t belong here,” writes Gabriela Czwarnos, account director at HAVAS Red.
When I first moved to London from Poland in my early 20s to work in PR, I knew it would be a challenge, but with my master’s degree in communications and journalism, I felt confident and capable. I spoke really good English. But “really good” wasn’t good enough in communications—as I would soon find out.
In PR, words are your currency, and I constantly worried I didn’t have the right ones. I obsessed over emails, triple-checked pitches, stayed quiet in brainstorms—lacking cultural background resulted in puns, jokes and ideas going right over my head more times that I wish to admit. I looked around at my peers—confident, quick, fluent—and I felt smaller by comparison.
Years later my experience gained a popular name: imposter syndrome.
I carried it with me for a long time. And when I moved again—this time to Australia, just as I turned 30, when London life became too much—the feeling of imposter syndrome intensified. I left behind my entire professional network. I didn’t know the local media landscape, had no journalist contacts, and once again, I felt like I was starting from zero.
This time, there was an added layer. I couldn’t help but notice how different I felt in the room. London was chaotic, diverse, full of voices and faces from everywhere. In Australia, the industry felt more homogenous. My accent stood out. My name got mispronounced. I felt the need to “prove” myself, not just as a communications professional, but as someone who had the right to be in the room at all.
I can’t undermine the fact that imposter syndrome has been ingrained in me—I’m a true millennial. The generation that entered the workforce during recessions and layoffs. We came of age professionally in a time of economic uncertainty, zero job security, and what I like to call “non-gentle parenting” by our bosses. There were no pep talks, no feedback sandwiches. We were expected to keep up, stay late, and never show self-doubt. So, I didn’t. I internalised it instead.
But eventually and thankfully things started to shift when I joined HAVAS Red.
The turning point wasn’t a promotion or a big campaign win (although they help). It was finding myself in a workplace that encouraged learning rather than performing. A team where people shared what they didn’t know as openly as what they did. Where I could ask questions, pitch imperfect ideas, and still feel respected.
Interestingly, I feel like in a way, what I considered my ‘weakness’, somehow turned into my ‘superpower’. Due to my background, my brain tends to ‘tick’ and connect the dots often differently to my Australian colleagues, this can lead to unique lens and approach ideas, which, luckily for me, is celebrated and encouraged.
More than anything, it was the type of leadership that made the difference. I’ve been lucky to have managers who don’t micromanage or hover—but who also don’t disappear. They let me learn to swim on my own, but they are watching closely, ready to jump in and provide guidance or support if I need it. That kind of leadership builds trust and more importantly, it builds confidence.
Because confidence isn’t something you either have or don’t. It’s like a muscle. It needs constant training. You build it by being given space to try, to struggle, to figure it out and by knowing someone’s there if you need them.
I’ve been working over a decade in the industry, and I still have imposter moments, but I’ve learned how to manage that voice instead of letting it run the show.
Here’s what helped me:
- Talk about it. Imposter syndrome thrives in silence. The minute I started speaking about it, I realised how many other people (even the confident ones) felt the same.
- Look back and celebrate your growth, not just the wins, but the things you’ve learned. Keep a list of skills, ideas, new clients and everything in between on your desktop and add them as you go. Come December, you will be surprised how much you’ve overcome and achieved.
- Be okay with not being the loudest. The longer I work in this job the more I realise clients value considered well thought-through advice and counsel, rather than a chat about everything and nothing, for the sake of it. Sometimes the best ideas come after the meeting, in the follow-up email, in the one-on-one chat.
- Find spaces that allow for imperfection. Whether it’s a manager, a team, or a mentor, having even one person who makes you feel safe to try and fail can change everything.
- Remember that different isn’t lesser. Your background, your story, your way of seeing the world, that’s your edge, not your weakness. Your perspective on culture, life and insights are much more valuable than you think.
I used to think feeling like an imposter meant I didn’t belong. But now I think it just meant I was growing, stretching into something unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and important. And although the process has been tough, and took a lot of resilience, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I truly feel like I’ve earned my seat at every table I get to join now.
