Blog post Part of special issue: (Non)belonging: Navigating education and research as a neurodivergent academic
Understanding imposter syndrome through a Harry Potter lens
Imposter syndrome (Image by Microsoft Copilot)
Navigating undergraduate or postgraduate study can be challenging for many students. For neurodivergent students – particularly those who receive diagnoses later in life – these challenges are often compounded by imposter syndrome, limited representation and unspoken academic norms. This reflection draws on my lived experience as a neurodivergent doctoral researcher to offer reassurance, insight and encouragement to students navigating similar paths.
I am reminded of a moment in the Harry Potter film series when Harry leaps from Hagrid’s arms to face Voldemort. Those who had nearly lost hope suddenly believed again. What struck me, on reflection, was how deeply connected Harry and Voldemort were – and how long it took Harry to understand that connection. This mirrors my own academic journey. I once viewed imposter syndrome, attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), dyslexia and dyspraxia as separate obstacles. While each presents distinct challenges, they are also part of who I am. Accepting this was central to developing my identity and positionality as a researcher.
Imposter syndrome – my personal ‘Voldemort’ – has been the most persistent challenge in my experience of higher education. It refers to a pattern of doubting one’s abilities and fearing exposure as a fraud, despite evidence of competence (Clance & Imes, 1978). From undergraduate study through to my PhD, I have carried a constant sense of not being ‘good enough’. This was intensified by late diagnoses: dyslexia and dyspraxia at 23, and ADHD at 43. For years, I sensed something was ‘off’ but lacked the language to understand it. That uncertainty left room for self-doubt and the belief that someone like me could not become an academic.
‘Imposter syndrome – my personal “Voldemort” – has been the most persistent challenge in my experience of higher education.’
I often made throwaway comments steeped in internalised doubt, such as, ‘People like me don’t do master’s degrees.’ Over time, I learned to question these assumptions. Who were ‘people like me’, and why had I accepted such limits? These beliefs did not emerge in isolation. As a Black, working-class, first-generation university student, I rarely saw myself represented in academic spaces. Research shows that representation and a sense of belonging play a crucial role in student persistence and success (Strayhorn, 2019). The scarcity of Black female professors reinforced my sense that academia was not designed with people like me in mind.
For me, what ultimately helped was addressing imposter syndrome directly rather than avoiding it. In research, developing positionality requires honesty – about both strengths and vulnerabilities. This is discussed further in Cavigioli et al. (2026, pp. 36–62). I learned the importance of asking for and accepting support. Just as Harry relied on those who saw his potential before he fully did, I benefited enormously from my supervisors and wider faculty. Supportive academic relationships have been shown to be particularly important for neurodivergent students, enabling them to navigate institutional barriers and advocate for their needs (Doyle, 2020).
Nevertheless, stepping out of my comfort zone to tackle imposter syndrome felt like leaping from the tallest tower and declaring, ‘Let’s settle this.’ For me, that moment came when I chose to share my story publicly – standing on the famous red circle carpet and owning my journey at (Givans, 2025). Telling my story was not about claiming victory over imposter syndrome but about recognising that it does not define my worth or capability.
For neurodivergent students navigating higher education and the staff that support them, the goal is not to defeat difference but to understand how to work with it – such as through the embedding of Universal Design for Learning to accommodate different modes and formats for learning. Late diagnosis does not invalidate achievement, and needing support does not diminish intellectual ability. Asking for help is not a weakness; it is a strategy for survival and growth. While the academic journey may involve facing deeply ingrained doubts, it can also be a space for transformation – where students learn not only to succeed, but to belong.
References
Cavigioli, N., Mottershaw, S., & O’Connor, R. (2025). Supporting working-class students in higher education: Developing your class-conscious practice. Routledge.
Clance, P. R., & Imes, S. A. (1978). The imposter phenomenon in high achieving women: Dynamics and therapeutic intervention. Psychotherapy: Theory, Research & Practice, 15(3), 241–247.
Doyle, N. (2020). Neurodiversity at work: A biopsychosocial model and the impact on working adults. British Medical Bulletin, 135(1), 108–125.
Givans, N. C. (2025, May 2). Black & working-class: Where’s the representation? [Video]. TEDx Wolverhampton. YouTube.
Strayhorn, T. L. (2019). College students’ sense of belonging: A key to educational success for all students (2nd ed.). Routledge.
Artificial intelligence declaration: The author used Read&Write for dyslexia support in proofreading this blog post. The author takes full responsibility for the accuracy and originality of this publication and complied with the terms of .