Ratatouille as a Remedy: How Remy Healed My Imposter Syndrome

Anyone can cook!

So you’ve set your goals, you’ve worked hard, and you get to the point in your life where you’ve achieved something you’ve wanted for the longest time. You’re so excited and so grateful and you feel…crushing doubt. Your mind starts to race and all these critical thoughts crop up: Did they make a mistake? What if I’m not good enough? What will people think once they know? What if I don’t deserve this? Suddenly, you’re not celebrating anymore, you’re “what-if-ing” and doomsday-planning, and it feels awful. 

So many important moments in my life have been overshadowed with this doubt; I get to my goal and then become afraid. Take college, for example. I wanted to go to Vanderbilt to study with Jeremy Wilson and I did it. However, as soon as I got to campus, that excitement started to fade. I listened to my studiomates play and heard them talk about their accomplishments. I felt myself start to shrink and the voice in my head got louder: You’re not as good as they are…and they know it. 

It took me until the spring of my sophomore year to actually feel as though I had a place in the studio (I did all along, I just didn’t believe it.) It took countless small successes and good moments stacked on top of each other to provide enough evidence to begin to quiet down my imposter syndrome. A crucial moment was winning the audition to play the solo in Mozart’s Requiem. That was evidence that I could not deny, something that showed my value and voice in the studio. The gradual aggregation of these good bits of data helped me to understand my true purpose, value, and place. As Professor Wilson likes to remind us, “You have something to offer and nothing to prove.” I struggled with both ends of that phrase, trying to believe I had nothing to prove while also believing that I, just by being me, had something to offer that no one else did. It’s another thing that has taken time, but gradual reflection and the accrual of small, positive moments has helped. 

I’m sure you’re wondering when the Little Chef comes in. I’ve found in my therapy and journaling that mantras work well for me. Simple phrases that hold a lot of meaning can be helpful anchors throughout my day when I’m feeling out of sorts. “Anyone can cook” has been a crucial one. In Ratatouille, Linguini’s foray into cooking, however harrowing at the start, is defended with Gusteau’s old adage, ultimately allowing him and Remy to continue exploring the art of food. What Remy’s imaginary Guesteau says to defend Linguini later passes on to defend Remy and his talents. He’s a rat (ew) but he can cook and he has something to offer. According to Gusteau, this checks out. This mantra helps bring me back to reality. If I’m feeling self-doubt, I try to remember that anyone can be an artist and have something to bring to the world. This is not to say that I think I’m a rat learning to play trombone. Remy wanted to cook and that was uncommon…it’s not normal for a rat to be a good chef (or a chef at all, I guess.) I want to play trombone in a professional orchestra…and that’s more feasible than a rat having culinary gifts. Guesteau’s saying helped me to understand that “anyone can cook” also means that no matter who you are or where you’re at in your journey, you have something to share. 

I have a dream of a musical career and a position in a professional orchestra and there will be plenty of smaller goals and steps along the way. At each of these moments, there will be doubt and worry. There will be that moment where I’ll feel like an imposter or like I’m unworthy, but the feeling will continue to weaken as I learn and grow. Remembering that anyone can be an artist, a creator, or a musician helps to ground me. Regardless of what I or anyone else thinks, there’s no denying that my fundamental uniqueness as a person means that I can make art and have a valuable perspective. That is the mindset I try to hold for myself. Yes, I’m going to doubt myself, and yes, I’m going to worry. All I can do is put in the work, set goals for myself, and do my very best. I am uniquely me, so I produce art that is unique also. “Anyone can be an artist.” Just because I’m a rat doesn’t mean I can’t make a soul-warming soup.