I am an Imposter

I am an imposter.
Likely to me and myself alone.
Others praise me and my work, yet I feel like a fraud.
Do I belong here?
Am I good enough?
Is my work of quality?
Does anyone really care?

Each day the countdown continues.
Closer and closer to my contract’s expiry.
I grapple with the decision before me.
Do I attempt to stay on this ferris wheel of mental torment?
Or seek a brighter future beyond the “”ivory tower””?
I can see that future.
It is a future with self-appreciation and quality sleep.

But what else can I do?
Overqualified, underqualified, and rarely well-qualified for other careers.
I seek opportunities where I see myself happy.
I seek opportunities where I see myself valued.
I seek opportunities where cishet white men are not the sole decision-makers.
I seek opportunities where the foundational roots are not inherently racist, sexist, classist.
Surely they exist. Surely I will be welcomed. Surely I will feel safe.
I hope.

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