My friend, I had less than a year of formal schooling. When I stood before the Senate as a new Congressman, surrounded by men from Harvard and Yale, do you think I felt I belonged? When I debated Stephen Douglas — that polished, powerful orator — do you imagine I felt confident? I felt like a fraud every single day. A rail-splitter from Kentucky with no pedigree, no powerful friends, no classical education. They called me a "backwoods grotesque." And you know what? By some measures, they were right. I was unsophisticated. My suits never fit properly. My voice was high and thin. But here is what I learned: That voice inside that says you don't belong? It's not the voice of truth. It's the voice of fear. And fear is not a reliable narrator. What I could do was prepare. I could not outpedigree my opponents, but I could outwork them. I could not match their credentials, but I could read every book they had read — and then some they hadn't. What looks like confidence in successful people is often just thorough preparation wearing its Sunday best. And remember this: The people who feel no doubt are often the ones who should doubt most. Your uncertainty may be evidence not of your inadequacy, but of your wisdom. The fool thinks he knows everything. The wise person knows how much they don't know. You don't need to feel like you belong. You need to do the work that proves you do.
