Ellie met with her boss, and reviewed changes that she wanted Ellie to make.  She praised her for the report and the organization of the information, and provided constructive feedback.  Ellie was grateful for the exchange, and the feedback.

Ellie reviewed the information, met with the team to polish, and settled into a new routine.  She got to know people in the office and even developed some friendships. As she reviewed the project she was assigned, she began to look for other information to support the data, and added some key details to the report.  Dr. Linton offered praise for her work, but Ellie wasn’t feeling it. She still questioned her worth, and her abilities.

In the following days, an email arrived at 9:03 AM, boldly, unapologetically, like it knew it was about to ruin Ellie’s day.

Team:
Quick update — Ellie will present the preliminary findings at tomorrow’s stakeholder briefing.
She’s closest to the data.
— Mira

Ellie reread the lines at least six times, waiting for the universe to reveal the hidden punchline. Present? As in, speak? In front of stakeholders? People with actual power and expectations?

Her ears rang. Her vision fuzzed at the edges.

Sam wheeled his chair over. “Whoa, you are moving up! Congrats.”

She managed a thin smile. “I… yeah. Totally cool. I love… presenting. It’s like… my favorite sport.” More sarcasm, but she couldn’t help it.  She was terrified.

He laughed and rolled away, clearly convinced she was a confident professional and not a person quietly freaking out inside.

Ellie stared at the screen again. Her cursor blinked with judgment.

That night, she practiced in front of her bathroom mirror. In the mirror, Ellie looked calm enough, but her voice kept warbling on the word regression. She tried a power pose she once read about online (feet wide, hands on hips) but it just made her feel like a confused superhero without a cape.

Why me? Ellie pondered. The conversation in her head had become more of an issue in recent weeks. You messed up. They think you’re better than you are. This is where the truth comes out.

She closed her eyes and counted her breaths like her therapist once taught her. In… two… three… out… two… three…

It helped. A little.

By morning, her nerves had morphed into buzzing electricity beneath her skin. She arrived early, laptop in hand, slides rehearsed to the point of exhaustion.

The conference room filled slowly. Polished shoes. Expensive pens. People who asked questions that sounded more like accusations.

Mira stood at the front, giving Ellie a reassuring nod. It didn’t calm her, just confirmed Mira believed in her, which was somehow even more terrifying.

Finally, it was her turn.

Ellie rose from her chair and felt her legs go stiff, like marionette limbs staged by a beginner puppeteer. She plugged in her laptop, hoping technology wouldn’t betray her too.

The first slide appeared.

She faced the room. Dozens of eyes stared back, neutral and expectant. Hungry.

Her voice caught, just for a second, and she feared that was the unraveling moment. But she swallowed, found the thread again, and began.

The first few sentences quivered, but the numbers steadied her. Data was safe, defined. Charts didn’t judge. Statistics didn’t whisper “you’re a fraud”. People did.

Halfway through, she noticed heads nodding. Phones were pocketed. Someone wrote notes. Good notes, not “fire this incompetent mess” notes.

Ellie dared to breathe.

Questions came, but not cruel ones. Honest curiosity. She answered with the cautious confidence of someone still waiting for lightning to strike… but lightning never came.

When she wrapped up, the room applauded politely. Mira smiled wide, although the butterflies in her stomach were still fluttering relentlessly.

“You handled that beautifully,” Dr. Linton whispered as Ellie returned to her seat.

Ellie smiled back, small but real. It bubbled up from somewhere deeper than fear.

For one fragile moment, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she could belong here.

Ellie continued to settle into her position, learning the ropes, but she still questioned her worth and position.  She still didn’t feel worthy and questioned how much longer it would last. 

Her education was coming back to her, including classes that she never thought she would ever use. Her confidence was better than it was, but still not great. She was learning so much and appreciated feedback from Dr. Linton and her team.  She was getting to know her colleagues, and started to enjoy the work. She couldn’t help but think that it could all be over tomorrow.