Photo by Katrin Sauerwein
When I was six, I started primary school in Germany. I was nervous, and I remember feeling small in that big building. Four years later, by the end of primary school, we basically owned the schoolyard. We knew every corner of it.
Then I started Gymnasium, and suddenly I was sharing a schoolyard with 18-year-olds. I felt small and insignificant all over again. Fast forward to our final years, and (surprise) we felt we had it all figured out. The oldest, the wisest, the coolest, for sure.
And then I started university, and it began again. New place, unfamiliar faces. I felt young and insecure, and maybe even a bit out of place.
It happens with every new job, too. For me, every single time.
For a long time, I filed this feeling under “imposter syndrome.” But I’ve come to see it differently. Every time you climb to the top of something, you choose to start over. And starting over always feels the same.
The smallness comes back, not because you’ve failed, but because you’ve leveled up.
What I find funny is that this feeling doesn’t go away as you grow. It grows with you. Which might mean it’s less a sign that something is wrong and more a sign that you’re learning, stretching, and getting better at something that matters to you.
I used this reframe recently to close a three-day training in Dublin. Many of the participants carried that feeling of “smallness” into the room, and I wanted to name it rather than let it sit quietly in the background. Normalizing it seemed to take some of the weight off. Judging by their feedback, it helped.
So if you need it, borrow it: feeling small isn’t a warning. It might just be your receipt for how far you’ve come.