The Impostor Among Us

I put on my badge, my name clear and true,

Foundation Doctor, FY2.

I know the rota, the ward, the day,

But doubts walk with me anyway.

On ward rounds I stand a step behind,

Listening hard, tense in my mind.

If someone turns and asks me why,

My heart beats fast, my mouth gets dry.

In team huddles we gather tight,

Plans and problems, day and night.

When it’s my turn, I keep it short,

Afraid my voice will show my flaws.

An FY1 asks what they should do,

A student seeks for answers too.

They look at me like I should know,

Like I’m the one to lead the show.

But in my head a voice insists:

They’ll see the truth. You don’t exist.

You lack the skill, the knowledge, the art.

You’re not a real doctor, just a spare part.

I tell myself I don’t belong,

That I’ve been bluffing all along.

That any moment they’ll find the proof,

And pull me out from under the roof.

So I cling to tasks, I keep it safe,

Bloods and forms at steady pace.

I tick the boxes, finish the list,

Hoping my fear will stay dismissed.

I wear the scrubs, I play the part,

Trying to hide the doubt in my heart.

I wait to be caught, to be exposed,

To hear the words I fear the most.

Then slowly,

quietly,

day by day,

Something shifts,

along the way.

I’m there when things don’t go to plan,

I stop, I think, I help when I can.

I don’t know it all, and I never will,

But I care deeply, and I do still.

So now I choose to learn and try,

To ask, to fail, to question why.

I’ll make mistakes, like all of us do,

But growth is born when we see them through.

I’ll keep on striving, doing my best,

For patients, for colleagues and all the rest.

I belong right here, I’m not an impostor,

I’m a human, a person, and a doctor.

Reflections:

Transitioning from FY1 into FY2 can feel daunting in many ways. As FY1s, we are often shielded by clear expectations, close supervision and the reassurance that someone more senior was always around. The abrupt shift in my professional identity overnight was accompanied by a persistent worry that I was not ready or capable enough for the role, that I didn’t know enough, that I wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t live up to the role of an FY2. I was suddenly expected to lead ward jobs, make decisions with less reassurance, and become a source of advice for FY1s who now looked to me for guidance.

Many new FY2s often feel like they are putting on a façade, acting out a part that they do not feel is truly them. However, as the weeks pass, this discomfort often starts to ease – repeated exposure to common clinical scenarios can build familiarity and confidence. Asking for help also starts to feel less daunting and supporting FY1s doesn’t mean having all the answers – just honesty, humility, patience and a willingness to help.

Ultimately, I learned that becoming an FY2 is a process, a journey. Even though the professional designation may change overnight, growing into the role takes time. It is okay not to know, and asking questions, no matter how trivial, is a fundamental part of becoming a safe and better doctor. By being open about what we do not know, we create a safer environment for our patients and colleagues. Transitioning from FY1 to FY2 is not about achieving perfection or acquiring an encyclopedia of knowledge overnight, but about embracing continual learning and reminding ourselves that it is okay not to have all the answers. The poem ultimately recognises that uncertainty does not negate competence; it humanises it. The final declaration affirms an earned identity: not an impostor, but a developing doctor who belongs.

Dr Minna Chang

F2, London Foundation School

March 2026

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The views expressed in this article are those of the author’s, and do not necessarily reflect the official stance of the UKFPO.