Impostering

I buy my legitimacy with social gambles. A major squashed together of two incredibly complex disciplines, neither of which I feel I've quite earned as title. I made the major up, but the diploma is real, somehow.

I'm a programmer of hardware, but really only in the very small space I've defined for myself. The specific thing I get credit for is a device I tell everyone makes it easy to do hardware, to learn programming. I didn't make the device as such, but I did make much of its easiness- and now I'm celebrated using this device I keep telling everyone is simply not hard.

What am I good at? Juggling. Writing. Dancing. All to degrees, and all degrees I don't have. If I did them for a living, I'd probably disavow my legitimacy there too, and I'd again be right. I'm not that good, just better than most. 

But I'm mostly good at continuing. Distance endured slowly, in the physical sense. The swallowing of feelings like this: knowing that I am not the best, taking myself to task for small mistakes. Fighting always to be and do better. Feeling like I'm often working hard but always never enough. Agonizing over wonderful and undeserved choices sometimes, but mostly smiling and meaning it. 

I think I'm good at slipping through cracks. Celebratedly nonthreatening, I can pass, use wit and bravado if the facade is slipping. Amuse my hosts. Take the things I don't think I deserve, because others think I do. 

There is some that I deserve, just not all this. I'm more a bluffer than a full imposter; I expected more of myself, shouldn't everyone else?