Embracing Your Worth in a New Professional Journey

Do you ever feel like an impostor? Like you’re just pretending to belong in spaces you’ve worked hard to reach? I do, too.

I remember my heels clicking against the tile floor as I walked toward the elevator for my first professional interview. My student days were over, and I was preparing to leave my hourly job behind to embark on a new path in communications. I had applied to the position almost as a joke, certain they wouldn’t even look twice at my application. But two weeks later, I received a notification: Human Resources had passed my resume to the hiring manager.

I suddenly felt so small, like a fraud in business attire, trying to blend into a world I wasn’t sure I belonged in. But everything changed once I stepped into that interview room. Something clicked as the conversation unfolded, and I began discussing all the work I’d done during my undergraduate years. I started to see myself as the professional I had always hoped to become.

A few weeks later, I received the offer. I was now a public relations specialist for a local government agency, my first full-time role.

As the daughter of a Mexican family and a first-generation college graduate, I figured out most of what I had achieved independently. Securing a job right after graduation was an accomplishment no one in my family had experienced. “Proud” doesn’t even begin to cover what I felt, but alongside that pride lingered a quiet question: How did I get here? And why communications?

Growing up, communication wasn’t exactly a strong suit. In a Hispanic household, there’s often a focus on keeping the peace and staying quiet to avoid conflict. That mindset stuck with me, shaping how I interacted with others, getting me into trouble, and how I saw my voice. Speaking up didn’t come naturally.

Yet, somehow, I found myself in a field where my voice wasn’t just heard, it was essential. One of the most defining moments in my early career came during Hurricane Beryl in 2024.

Beryl was initially projected to make a direct hit, and our team was tasked with preparing and informing residents about storm readiness and evacuation protocols. That’s when I officially stepped into the role of crisis communicator. I worked closely with the fire department and the Office of Emergency Management to coordinate messaging across social media, local news outlets, and internal communications.

Amid the chaos, I learned what it truly meant to communicate under pressure. I figured out how to schedule interviews quickly, track down accurate information in real time, and ensure that updates reached both residents and leaders at City Hall. Every minute mattered, and so did every word.

In the end, the storm shifted course and moved north, sparing us from a direct hit. But we still faced challenges,  including rising sea levels from storm surge, and the need for clear, timely communication never let up.

During that entire time, I never stopped to think what I was doing here. How was I doing this?

In the moment, when people need you the most, that’s when the true leader in you rises. Everything you learned and think you forgot becomes muscle memory.

But impostor syndrome doesn’t just vanish; it shows up in new forms, especially as I take on greater responsibilities or walk into rooms where I’m still the only one who looks like me or comes from where I come from. When it does, I remind myself that I didn’t get here by accident. I didn’t stumble into this role. I earned my place, step by step, conversation by conversation, accomplishment by accomplishment.

To anyone who feels like they don’t belong, who questions if they’re “enough,” I see you. Your journey matters. Your voice matters. And yes, even with doubt, you can still show up, speak up, and succeed.

You are not a fraud. You are a first, and that is something powerful.