Do you ever feel “stupid”? Not because you actually are — but because a thought flashes through your mind suggesting exactly that? That small sentence that suddenly pops up in the middle of a meeting, while reading a text, or simply when you forget something: “How stupid can you be?!” It’s odd, really. Rationally, we often know perfectly well that we’re not stupid at all. If you were to ask someone else this question about you, they would easily list your achievements as clear evidence of the opposite. In my case, for example, I’m a professor — hardly something people associate with someone unintelligent. And yet, I regularly feel stupid. Even after years of studying, work experience, and guiding countless researchers, my mind can suddenly shout: “Seriously? When will you learn, Rianne? Don’t be so stupid.” Why is that? Why can something so small suddenly feel like proof that we’re falling terribly short? Both psychology and the Clarity Process offer a surprisingly clear answer.

Our mind loves measuring, comparing itself to others, and above all: correcting us. It believes it’s helping by keeping us alert and on track. In cognitive psychology, these are called cognitive distortions — automatic, often exaggerated conclusions.

For example:

• If you make one mistake → “See? You’re not smart enough.”
• If someone else understands something more quickly → “Everyone gets this except you.”

High achievers in particular tend to chronically doubt their own competence and may even fear being “found out” as someone who doesn’t really know what they’re doing. Psychology calls this the imposter syndrome. These thoughts and feelings arise when your self-image clashes with an (often unrealistic) ideal of who you think you should be. Once you see that these expectations are old, learned measuring sticks — and not the truth — it becomes much easier to look at yourself with kindness.

The Clarity Process offers beautiful practices to cultivate that kindness. It emphasises that these kinds of thoughts are simply old conditioning. As children, we’re subtly rewarded for “having the right answer”, “being clever” and “performing well”. How delighted were your parents when you first managed to use the potty? Or when you came home with a glowing school report? The mind draws a childlike conclusion from this: “If I make mistakes, I’m not okay.” The strange thing is: even once you’re an adult and know this isn’t true, the pattern keeps running in the background. Simply put:

Feeling stupid is not evidence — it’s a reflex.

Recently I was working on a piece of writing and it just wouldn’t come out the way I wanted. And yes — there it was again: the voice. “Come on, just focus properly.” I felt myself tense up and noticed my diaphragm tightening immediately.ut because I recognised it, I could also smile. Not because it felt pleasant — but because I saw: this isn’t me; this is my conditioning trying to run its old tricks. The tension eased. And I could continue writing calmly.

The thought “I’m stupid” says nothing about your actual intelligence. It says something about your mental programming, and about your brain trying to protect you from rejection or failure. The very fact that you even notice this says far more about your intelligence — your awareness — than the content of the thought itself. And with that awareness comes room for change.

A small exercise for today:

Whenever you hear yourself think “I’m stupid”, pause for three seconds.
No analysis, no counter-argument.
Just look at what is happening.

Gently ask yourself:
“Who is actually saying this?”

And then feel your body.
Is there tension?
Pressure?
Shame?

Take one slow breath in.
And smile — not because it’s pleasant, but because you can see that it’s simply an old reflex passing through.

This is deeply ingrained conditioning. And if you like, I’m happy to help you explore what triggers your particular “stupidity programme”, so you can approach it with far more softness.
Clarity is liberation — truly. I experience that every single day.