“I feel like an impostor.” It has not been so long since I heard this comment from a few friends of mine ‘battling’ away their mid-twenties crisis. To be frank, I had no clue about the modern-day usage of the term. Of course, I knew about the literal meaning. But the familiarity with the word was more or less from detective novels describing people who conceal their identities to get away with their crimes. In a day and age where vocabulary is played fast and loose, the word ‘impostor’ has come to mean people who feel like they don’t deserve credit for their hard-earned achievements. Knowing that now, I too have a story to share where I felt like an impostor.
It was at a dance, yup, a dance in Edinburgh. As strange as it sounds, I am excited to share probably one of my top five best memories of all time. During my stay in the hostel in Edinburgh, I met a ton of different people including physicists, athletes, musicians, and PhD grads. Of all the people I met, two girls in particular hold a special place in my heart: Tiziana from Germany and Demi from the Netherlands. When so many people were into partying and pub crawls, these girls remained in the corner, watching the funny charades of the drunken lot. I went up to them and introduced myself as the girl from their dorm. As a side note, I went to Edinburgh with a non-existent itinerary because I think it is super fun to be spontaneous. That would be the lamest way to say that I hate planning. I have suffered a lot. I have missed many trains and buses. Alright, so now, you can understand why it is important for me to pick up recommendations from the people I meet. So, in my usual nonchalant way, we exchanged our plans for the next day. It was not surprising that they had better plans than me. They told me that they were going for Ceilidh dancing and asked me if I wanted to tag along. Ceilidh dancing (pronounced Kay-lee) is a traditional Scottish folk dance. That was all I knew. Dance, you say? I was all in. I mean I had tried haggis and blood pudding in Scotland. So, I can fairly easily pass the test for dancing.
When I asked the girls about the dress code, they told me to wear anything I liked that was comfortable. Hmm…I was dubious as regards to what constitutes appropriate enough for the dance. So, I donned a long black dress which now looking back was a tad bit inappropriate. A cocktail party? I would have slayed it. But a traditional dance? Not so much. But it didn’t matter. I ecstatically set out with them late that evening to join the dance party.
