After another presentation a couple weeks later, Ellie expected the praise to feel like relief, but instead anxiety lingered in her chest like a weight she didn’t quite shake. Any second, she imagined it could overwhelm her.

Projects moved forward. Work began to fall into a pattern. Mira invited Ellie to join not just one, but two team discussions. Sam started asking for her opinions. No one escorted her out of the building. No one snatched her badge and called it a glitch.

Still, the whisper, “you’re faking it”, could be heard in the recess of her mind.

And then, one afternoon, the thing she feared most happened.

She messed up.

A small mistake. A mislabeled variable that threw off part of a model. Nothing catastrophic, nothing career-ending — but enough that when Mira reviewed the work, she gently pointed out the error and asked Ellie to adjust the findings.

Ellie felt the blood rush to her ears. There it was. The proof. The mask slipping.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I knew I wasn’t… I shouldn’t… I don’t belong here.”

The way Mira’s face softened was almost worse than anger.

“Ellie,” she said, pulling out the chair beside her. “Sit.”

Ellie sat, bracing for the unraveling.

Instead, Mira took off her glasses and set them on the table, a rare sign of full attention.

“Do you know how many mistakes I made my first year here?” she asked. “I once presented a model based on the wrong dataset entirely. The investors were not amused.”

Ellie blinked. The idea almost didn’t compute.

“The problem isn’t the mistake. You will make more,” Mira continued. “It’s the story you tell yourself about what the mistake means.”

Ellie looked down at her hands. They trembled slightly.

“I just… keep waiting for someone to figure out I’m not as smart as they think.”

Mira nodded slowly. “That’s called imposter syndrome. And I promise you, the smartest people here still struggle with it, even after all these years. You belong because you’re learning, contributing, and yes, correcting mistakes.” She smiled and her face relaxed into an expression of support. “That’s what real scientists do.”

The words didn’t erase the fear completely… but they carved a crack in it. A place for something kinder to slip in.

That night, Ellie stayed a little late — not to prove herself, but to finish the work with fresh eyes. She fixed the error, double-checked the results, then typed a short note:

Updated and corrected. Thanks for the feedback — it helped.
— Ellie

She hesitated before sending it. But this time, the hesitation wasn’t panic.

It was pride.

Real, earned pride.

She leaned back in her chair and exhaled — a long breath that seemed to soften the version of herself still convinced she was a mistake in motion.

Maybe the whisper wouldn’t disappear overnight. Maybe it never would. But she was beginning to understand something vital: Belonging wasn’t a stamp someone else granted her. It was a choice she made, every day she showed up, learned, stumbled, did her best, and kept going.

Ellie shut down her computer, grabbed her bag, and walked out into the evening air with a tiny smile tugging at her lips.

For the first time, she considered letting herself believe the simplest, hardest truth:

She deserved to be here.

Ellie was a work in progress, and she was ready to work.

******************************************************

Imposter syndrome is real and felt by many.  For some it goes away, but for others it lingers for a lifetime.  The trick is not to let it control your thoughts and feelings. It does serve a purpose.  It makes sure that we are trying out best and pushes us to be better at times. It can be seen as something that motivates us to strive for improvement. 

It’s normal to question our ability, but you can’t let that keep you from new opportunities to learn and grow. Don’t let anxiety or imposter syndrome hold you back from who you were meant to be.  Take risks, keep learning, and strive to be your best.  It is still part of being happy, for life.