The thing I’ve always loved about blogging is the ability to be honest. I don’t do it for feedback, I do it to purge some of the things that linger in my head. Half the time, I don’t want replies. This is a post that has been brewing for a while and is partly because of the nerves I’m battling and mostly because the thoughts crop up regularly. Really, I write to make my world make sense.
I’ve been both a student and a teacher. I’ve been a nurse for long enough to no longer be considered a novice at my profession. I’m 30 years old, which means I’ve gotten through the portion of my life where I’m seen as too young to be respected when I voice an opinion. And yet…
There are moments in my life where I feel anything but the intelligent woman I appear to be to others.
Not that having the correct answer is expected, but I don’t feel I ever do. I routinely feel like I miss things, say dumb stuff, and generally sound ridiculous. I feel like I embarrass myself a lot my asking or saying the wrong things.
When debating getting my doctorate, I was discussing my worries with my best friend. My insecurities about my intelligence cropped up again. My friend usually rolls her eyes when I say I’m not smart enough for school. It’s hard to explain aside from saying my worry is my fears about my intelligence will be confirmed if I don’t make it.
Rationally, I know that’s false, but emotionally… Well, I can’t kick the fear to the side.
My anxiety over the new assignment brings all that back up. Not a matter of not being about to do it. My years of experience provide a certain “professional muscle memory”. It’s more being asked to prove myself and revealing that I’m not as smart as I claim.
Insecurity is par as a human. We all have to figure out how to battle our particular problem. I’m still working mine out. I’m sure (I think?) the feeling will fade a bit by the end of the week, but it’s never too far.
An unsure Nurse C signing out.