Have You Ever Felt Like an Imposter as a Vision Therapist?

Have you ever sat across from a new family, listened to their story, watched their hope, and thought…“Why are these people trusting me? How do they believe we can help them? Who said I’m qualified to guide this child?”

If you have, welcome to the club. Pull up a chair. We’ve all been there, whether we admit it out loud or not. Imposter syndrome is practically a rite of passage in every vision therapist's life. But let me ask you something else: What if the presence of doubt isn’t a sign that you’re unqualified… but a sign that you care deeply about the work you do?

Because here’s the truth no one tells you when you’re learning vergence ranges and Brock String troubleshooting: The responsibility feels enormous because it is enormous.

Parents hand you their child’s frustrations, fears, struggles, and dreams, and they’re looking at you like you’re the one who’s going to help them make sense of it all. That’s not a small thing.

Vision Therapy is never just exercises: it’s leadership. It’s emotional coaching. It’s pattern recognition. It’s clinical reasoning in real time. It’s reading the room, reading the patient, and reading the demands of the moment, and adjusting the plan when the moment demands it.

And here’s the twist: The longer you’re in this field, the more you realize how much there is to learn… and that realization alone can make you feel like an imposter. It did for me.

But that doesn’t make you one. It makes you a clinician who refuses to phone it in. It makes you a professional who understands the weight of influence. It makes you someone who takes the craft seriously.

Let me ask you yet another question: If you truly were an imposter, would you care this much? Would you worry about whether you’re good enough? Would you spend this much time thinking about your patients, your decisions, and your outcomes?

Exactly. Real impostors don’t feel imposter syndrome. Competent, passionate people do.

Vision Therapy is one of those bizarre careers where every single day presents you with a new puzzle, a new variable, or a new curveball. And because the work is so human-centered, so layered, so dynamic, there will always be moments that make you question yourself.

But questioning yourself is different from doubting your worth. So here’s what I want to leave you with: Families don’t trust you because you’re perfect. They trust you because your presence calms the room. Because your explanations make sense. Because you see their child in a way others haven’t. Because your track record, large or small, reflects connection, consistency, and care. Because they can feel your sincerity.

You don’t need to know everything. You just need to keep showing up; curious, grounded, present, and willing to learn.

And that part? You’re already doing brilliantly.

Stay tuned…