Naturally, I was the class nerd in high school. The most attractive women came to me with homework, nothing else. My friends were few and, if my first few years after high school were any indication, my future prospects were limited. I drifted from dead-end job to dead-end job. I've sold cars, been a telemarketer, worked at Wendy's (tm) restaurants in Alaska, Washington, Oregon, and Hawaii (how's that for drifting for you?). The height of my pre-programming career was district manager for an espresso company. I was even homeless at one point.
Now, it's apparent that I was some sort of ugly duckling waiting to grow up into a swan, of sorts. Kind of a twisted, broken swan, but a swan nonetheless. <-- The rest of this paragraph was puffery about accomplishments. I deleted them because they didn't need to be here -->
Suffice it to say, I have a great life. Finally. So why do I feel like a fake?
Update: Oh, I forgot that I also worked for Wendy's in Texas. 5 states. Wow. That's got to be a record or something :(
If so, the feeling is invalid and you just have to let it go. If not, you have a point of reference from which to begin. That which is honest cannot be fake.
For me, it was simply a matter of pursuing my passion. Once I identified that and began pursuing it, everything fell into place.
