Just who do you think you are?
I’m not sure when the self-doubt first set in, but for the past several years, I have been all too aware of a festering, dormant anxiety. A feeling on the periphery of my consciousness. A sense of not being good enough. Of being a fraud.
Most days it lies beneath the surface, undetectable to anyone, including myself. Then, in a moment of vulnerability, it flares up, and once again I’m paralyzed by a series of pernicious questions.
Call it insecurity. Call it imposter syndrome. Call it…an opportunity?