As I begin packing my belongings for a summer long internship in Washington, D.C., I feel a flood of anxieties work their way to the surface. What if I can’t do this? A small part of me has a nagging fear that the organization I am working for is eventually going to find out that I am some kind of fraud, and that despite the apparent competency of my cover letter, resume, writing sample, and interview, I do not, in fact, posses the required skills needed to succeed at this internship position.
“You have been selected as our top intern choice among dozens of other candidates.”
The words from my acceptance email loom over in my mind as I continue to psych myself out the day of my flight. You wouldn’t have been accepted if they didn’t think you would be a good fit! They only want to pick someone who will help their organization! And yet, perhaps my cover letter made me sound more qualified than I really am? Or perhaps everyone seems more qualified than they really are? The angel and devil on my shoulder continue to battle it out, trying to sway me one way, then the other.
(me)
It’s not that this my first job, or that I don’t know how to live on my own. I’ve been working since I was a sophomore in high school – nannying, burger joints, hostessing, waitressing – and I lived away from home for a year and participated in grassroots projects on my gap year program after I graduated high school (this is just the first of many “on my gap year” references that I shall be making. For a quick preview of what you’re in for, click here) I had an internship last summer in Boston, door-to-door canvassing for a nonprofit to collect donations and signatures in support of environmental campaigns. However, working face to face with people on the ground seems a lot less intimidating than working in an office at the nation’s capitol. In D.C. everything seems so much more… official. As if my slightest error could result in some major consequences for the organization I am representing.
I make a mental note to myself to do some more research on the organization before my first day, so that I’m as prepared as can be. Then I attempt to distract myself from these anxiety-provoking thoughts. I absorb myself in choosing what clothes to bring (i.e. what looks professional, and what doesn’t), and try to imagine everything but my internship. There are so many things to be excited about, like the energy of the city, the new people I’ll be meeting, the amazing site seeing opportunities, living on GWU’s campus—BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
My alarm. I look at the clock—12:00PM.
Time to go!