"Wait, you're a fraud?" you ask.
"No. Yes." Kayla blows out air in a long exhale. "I'm unsure."
"So you skated through graduate school without doing any worthwhile work? And your postdoc, too? I'm sure you earned this position."
Kayla's expression gives nothing away. "I was lucky."
You try a different tack. "I got my position here because a professor up and left. I figure I got it mainly because I went here for undergrad."
"I have no doubt your work qualified you," Kayla says without hesitation.
"The same way I know yours qualified you?"
Kayla crosses her arms. "That's different."
"It isn't, though! You don't feel like you belong? I don't feel like I belong."
"That's not truly comforting."
You can't think of what to say to make it better. "You do belong here. I believe it."
Kayla leans back in her chair and takes a sip of her coffee. "You can't solve impostor syndrome simply by saying magic words. Much as I wish you could."
You Wish That, Too.