I’m still here

I can explain my absence pretty well, though I can’t necessarily excuse it. For the past half-year, I have been busy either studying for the GRE or working on applications for PhD programs in political science. When not doing either of those, I work full-time as a research assistant. When not doing any of those three, I have been making time to read and write poetry.

I am incredibly, unbelievably happy. I absolutely love my job. For the first time, I feel like I have a genuine shot at a poetry side-hustle. I have an idea of what I want to do in the near-future, and that is deeply reassuring. And, since I am the way I am (i.e. incapable of taking any good news in good faith), all of this means I am filled with abject terror at the prospect of losing this happiness and, specifically, of failing. And right now, the biggest possible/plausible failure for me is a failure to get into a doctoral program in political science.

At this point, I should apologize. Not having written anything that isn’t a poem or for research purposes in months means I’ve lost my ability to write in a way that’s charming, relatable, or funny. And maybe I shouldn’t reduce this to charm, commiseration, or funniness.

I’ve talked about imposter syndrome a lot in the past. The concept isn’t new to anyone anymore, and that’s good! The more accessible this idea becomes, the easier it will be to talk about imposter syndrome and its effects on people. My specific imposter syndrome makes me feel like the best con-artist in the world; that I’ve duped everyone into thinking I’m intelligent and capable, when really I’m a slacker, a procrastinator, a plagiarist, a regurgitator. But I’ve done that concept to death, and I think what’s worse than the imposter syndrome is the opposite: if I’m not an imposter, if I truly am successful, if I truly am worthwhile, then the fall will be even worse. At least if I fail as an imposter, I’m getting what I deserve. That’s justice. That’s accountability. I can self-flagellate and feel a grim satisfaction. But if I fail as Neiha Lasharie, then what happens?

My therapist and I had a breakthrough recently. She was listening to my usual self-deprecating diatribes (“I’m a horrible person masquerading as someone with good intentions,” etc) and then, after intently scribbling something in her notes, said, “You’re gaslighting yourself.”

I felt like an old-timey bank robber, suddenly thrown into sharp relief by a helicopter spotlight. “Oh. I am.”

My therapist went on to say that it was obvious that I had picked up the language of gaslighting from people throughout my life, that it wasn’t something inherently in me, but a learned behavior. And if it was learned, then that meant it could be unlearned. I felt both guilt and relief. Guilt at the fact that I had been doing unto myself what I swore I would never let anyone else do to me, and relief at knowing. I’ve seen a change in myself over the past few weeks since that breakthrough, but it has opened up another avenue of fear. I’m assuming that my imposter syndrome – and maybe that of other people – is related to the self-gaslighting behavior that I’ve learnt. But I’ve become so used to my imposter syndrome as truth that I don’t know what is on the other side of overcoming this obstacle.

I love taking responsibility for things that aren’t my fault, and the gaslighting is absolutely the reason for that. But if I am able to suppress this urge to gaslight and be honest with myself and give praise where it’s due, then I will also have to face myself and be honest about my shortcomings, in a way that’s realistic and healthy. I will have to face my failures as a matter of fact, rather than something that can be grandiosely ascribed to a personal defect. I’ve grown comfortable in my self-perception of being a con artist. I’m comfortable being the villain in my story. I don’t know how to see myself as a nuanced person. It’s easier for me to think my boss hates me because of a mistake I made than to accept that my boss could move on with her life and expects me to move on with mine after said mistake was corrected.

I keep going back to the same question: is this a form of narcissism?

My therapist told me to write a positive poem about myself, and it took nearly a month for me to get something down. It became my favorite poem I’ve ever written, but getting into the headspace where such a poem was possible was a month-long endeavor. I felt uncomfortable praising myself, as if allowing myself to admit to any goodness in me would immediately make me fulfill my destiny as a narcissist. And narcissism, in my logic, is how you become a monster. And monsters are the reason I’m even trying to get a doctorate in political science to begin with.

Maybe that’s not it. Maybe the reason I’m reckoning with this “what’s on the other side of self-loathing” problem is that I still don’t trust myself to be responsible for being a source of good in the world. I want this doctorate because it is a way to assure my responsibility. I cannot be of service if I haven’t learnt all I can – for me, for myself, a PhD is the minimum qualification for being worthy of service, for being a truly Good Person. I’m forcing myself to jump through ever-higher hoops because I want to see if I’ll fail. I’m trying to reject my null-hypothesis:

H0 – Neiha Lasharie is an inherently bad/unintelligent/narcissistic person and therefore shouldn’t be trusted with a doctorate in political science.

It turns out, as far as I’m concerned, my testing isn’t complete yet.



What I’ve learnt from being forced to talk to people on the phone

To preface: I used to absolutely hate talking to people on the phone. I would avoid it as much as possible, to the point where even talking to my own family on the phone felt like an insurmountable ordeal in my life. I know I’m not alone in this, and that heartens me. In a few short years, I will be able to successfully sidestep the phone and conduct all my dailies without having to talk to anyone at all. As it is, I could probably live a talk-on-the-phone-free lifestyle but I do not have the luxury of that. Mostly because I will be working for people that still expect me to pick up the phone and talk to a person.

Now, before you start shaking your cane/mortgage/NOKIA 3310 at me, I will have you know I am not an antisocial person. I am just an anxious person. Like every other millennial. Also, none of us actually likes being anxious, we just have to develop coping mechanisms and cross-stitch reminders that we can do the dang thing, you All-Lives-Matter-touting ding-dong.

And so, let me launch into what I’ve learnt from being forced to call people on the phone – something I’m actually capable of doing now!

  1. Let’s start with the basic essentials: always leave your name and a number/email you can be reached at! I cannot stress this enough, and will be calling back (this was an accidental pun and I am thrilled) to this point later.
  2. When you do leave your name and number, make sure you spell your name out as painstakingly as possible. This is my usual spiel: “My name is Neiha Lasharie; that’s N- N for Nancy-E-I-H-A, Lasharie, L-A-S-H-A-R-I-E, Neiha Lasharie.” Why N for Nancy? Because I’m tired of being called Meiha and I live in constant fear of the day I have an international flight ticket with the wrong spelling of my Pakistani passport-holding name.
    1. Subpoint: memorize some approximation of the NATO phonetic alphabet. That way, you don’t have to scramble to find the stupidest word possible that happens to start with the letter in question, or end up in a situation where you forget that Phoenix does not, actually, start with F, or decide that “hallelujah” is the word you’re going for instead of, I don’t know, hotel (I have done this).
  3. Almost always, the person answering the phone will tell you their name right at the beginning. If they don’t tell you their name – or you forgot/were too busy panicking to register it, it’s nice to ask their name again right before you get off the phone. Write it down somewhere, it’ll come in handy later down this list. If nothing else, the person on the phone appreciates it, and it will make this mutual ordeal seem a bit more palatable and human. Look at you go!
  4. (Increasingly) no one actually likes talking on the phone. The person you are calling wants to get off the phone as quickly as you do. You don’t have to exchange pleasantries; in fact, the more streamlined you can make your phone call experience, the better it is for them to! Stick to the bare minimum; if they have questions, they’ll ask you. However…
  5. …you just put down the phone and realized that you forgot to give the person you were talking to a key bit of information! Dang it! “That’s too bad I guess, oh well, I could always-” don’t you do it, 19-year-old Neiha, don’t you throw the person on the phone under the bus for something you should be responsible for! You call that person back! You call them back as soon as possible so they still remember you and you don’t inconvenience literally everyone around you except yourself! Anxious child!
    1. This is where having left your name and number really helps, along with any correspondence number/order number/reference number if applicable.
    2. Additionally, if this a customer service type situation or there’s more than one person likely to pick up the phone, having the name of the person you talked to previously handy will make a big difference! Either they can run a note to the other person, or just hand the phone over if possible.
  6. If this is a work-related thing, or you have to ask a detailed question to someone, it’s good to write a script. But like, physically write it out if possible. You will 100% remember individual points way better if you lose the script because you wrote it down by hand. Scripts are also extremely handy if the call goes to voicemail and you panic – because as much as talking to another person is rough, talking into the void is way worse.
    1. Depending on the type of person you are, you can either write out the entire script word for word, or bullet point it. I personally prefer bullet pointing it.
  7. Speaking of voicemail: when you leave one, it’s helpful to speak as slowly and clearly as possible. No one actually knows how voicemails work, especially in an office setting. Speak slowly, carefully, and repeat things. Say your name in the beginning, and repeat your name at the end. Say your phone number twice. It’s also helpful to give the time and date you made this voicemail, and if it’s something where a follow-up will be needed, give the person you’re trying to reach the courtesy of telling them you’re about to hound them. But in a nice way.
  8. The build-up will always make it worse. Counting down the minutes to a phone call is hell. Usually, it’s not even worth it; the call goes to voicemail, and you’re left kinda underwhelmed. Just go for it. I know that’s not always possible for a lot of people, but for me, I sound and feel way more natural if I just pick up the phone and call someone instead of when I’m hyping myself up for it.
  9. During my first co-op, whenever I had to make a phone call, I would always isolate myself and find the most remote location possible. I didn’t want anyone to witness my embarrassment. But – and this is a good life lesson in general – no one cares if you stumble over your words. People stutter and stumble all the time. Now, I actually prefer calling people when I have someone around. It emboldens me.
  10. Always have something to write notes on. Make sure the thing you have to write notes on isn’t your phone. You WILL miss something in the transition from ear to speaker. This is crucial if you’re asking for contact information. Always have them spell out the name. Always confirm the number/email you’re been given. Basically, treat that situation with the same care you wish a Starbucks barista took when scrawling your name onto a grande iced latte.
  11. PACING HELPS SO MUCH. YOU WILL FEEL BETTER. But also don’t slip. I’ve definitely slipped during a phone interview.
    1. ALSO SCRIBBLING. This is something I picked up from my mom. Just doodling on a note card or newspaper or whatever it is you have nearby helps you focus.
  12. If you’re talking to someone important on the phone, don’t panic. It’s a totally different atmosphere than when you’re meeting with someone in real life. You don’t have to worry about what you’re wearing, or your body language – as long as you treat them with courtesy and respect their time, you should be good. But also, chances are, you’re talking to their secretary or assistant; be nice to them too. Actually, be especially nice to them – they have total control over whether or not you’ll get to talk to their boss.
    1. Some of the best interviewing advice I’ve ever been given has been from my father. This is very useful for an in-person interview but also applies to a phone call. Make yourself feel physically bigger; take a deep breath, square your shoulders, hold your feet shoulder’s width apart, just make yourself feel powerful. You’re feel more confident for it.
    2. The other best piece of advice I’ve ever been given is from a friend who didn’t even really mean it as advice; pretend you’re someone you really admire. Don’t, like, steal their identity. Just put yourself in their shoes, and you’ll find yourself adopting their perceived confidence too! This is the one piece of advice behind my public speaking success.
  13. Finally, it doesn’t matter who you’re calling, be as courteous to them as you would if you were talking to them in person. If someone is explaining something to you, make sure they know you’re actually listening. Ask questions. Be patient if you need to repeat yourself. Feel free to make fun of the situation, if you mess up! Don’t immediately hang up because you called yourself Zach and your name is definitely not Zach. It’s okay to ask someone to hold because you need a second to take a deep breath and dive back into it.

Okay, wow, this is way more advice than I was expecting to give. Feel free to ask me any questions! I’m happy to answer as best as I can! Now back to trying to get a hold of literal ambassadors!