Shay walked from the home of the lovely elderly couple in the Bronx where Habitat Housing had just completed making repairs. The man and his wife had been beyond grateful and had showered Shay with praise and compliments.
Shay walked into the street and looked toward the black Tahoe where Eric waited, ever vigilant. Her thoughts were juxtaposed to the words she had just heard.
Rather than acknowledge that her work had resulted in the completion of a fine job, that it had restored the safety of and improved the livability of the home of two people unable to afford the repairs… rather than accepting their praise, Shay replayed all of the near misses that could have been barriers to the projects completion.
Since taking the job with Habitat Housing at the end of August, she had become partly comfortable about some of the men her father hired to be her security team. Once, when describing how she felt about her work, Conner Wiltshire had said she was suffering from imposter syndrome.
“You feel like it’s just a matter of time before everyone finds out you are a fraud… like you’re faking your way to all of the successes.”
Shay had researched imposter syndrome. It fit.
As she reviewed her latest project, all she could see were the near-misses. In one instance, she had dipped $500 from her own money in order to get something done. Things like that left the impression that she was good and effective. Shay thought otherwise.
It was bad enough that her social life was shackled to the fact that she just didn’t know how to be normal. Other people always seemed to know just what to say and how to act. Shay always felt like she was doing it wrong, and she nearly never felt comfortable or at ease. And she knew her awkward ways were perceived by others.
Adding to her inherent awkwardness the fact that she was fooling everyone about her abilities at work left Shay in a constant state of second-guessing herself.
But, she would press on. That was what she did. She pushed through. Alone.
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