Cryptic Meg

I don’t feel qualified to speak about anything. This is a problem in writing blog posts, in doing a degree, in having human interactions! I have no confidence in my thoughts or in my voice.

I remember even at school, when the teacher asked a question, I would always wait and look around the classroom to see if someone else was going to respond, before tentatively raising my hand. I might actually be quite sure of my answer, but always felt that I should defer to others. I can only speculate as to why I did this. Shyness was surely a part of it. I suspect also that being a girl was significant: the prime female virtue of ‘politeness’ being so culturally drummed into me that I erroneously felt it was only proper to wait my turn.

At least with the system of hand-raising, I was frequently given a chance to speak. Things were very different in seminars for my history degree. These were 3-hour long discussions between a tutor and about 15 students. In order to participate, you just started speaking. It was my worst nightmare. The others spoke with such assuredness, such eloquence, and at such length! I felt unable to offer my thoughts in such a manner, and my old tactic of waiting for a pause was disastrous. Confoundingly, my comments being so rare, I felt they had to be extraordinary, which was an enormous pressure. I still remember the horror of starting to speak, feeling that I had rudely butted in, and seeing all those eyes turning to me almost in slow-motion. I would make my point as quickly as possible before silently dissolving into self-pity and wondering how I might go about folding myself into non-existence.

Even today as a PhD student I am plagued by paltry confidence. Thankfully I no longer have anything akin to those seminars; discussions are few and far between due to remote working. On various occasions I have been asked to present my work, which is bizarrely easier for me than a free discussion because I have been given authority to speak – not unlike being chosen by the teacher when I had my hand raised! Plus I can prepare a presentation; I can’t prepare off-the-cuff comments (as much as my anxiety would like me to try).

Where I am particularly struggling currently is in making a contribution online. I realise there is a certain irony in writing a blog post about this, but that is part of the purpose of the blog: to find a voice. Take Twitter, for example. I find that Twitter is a fantastic place for keeping up with global conversations in my academic field. I am, however, petrified of contributing. Who am I to say anything about this field, when I am surrounded by experts? What value have my thoughts, and what use is my way of expressing them? Wouldn’t inserting myself into the discussion be an impertinence? It’s like being back at that seminar table, hearing all the conversation going on around me, and feeling unable to prise open my mouth.

Of course, my inner Imposter tells me that I have perfectly reasonable doubts. I am only 6 months into my PhD. I know nothing. I express myself poorly. Nobody cares what I have to say.

These assertions are demonstrably untrue, at least in part. I must know something: I read and consume a great deal about my subject, I take time to think about the issues, and I am actively coding and creating models. I must have some skill in expressing myself: my history degree certainly gave me practice in writing, and here I am practising still!

Where I cannot successfully challenge my doubts is regarding whether other people care what I have to say. I haven’t given myself a chance to disprove the hypothesis, because I have barely said anything. So here I am, venturing cautiously into the online forum by writing this blog post. I hope there is value in the simple act of saying something, even if nobody does care.