I have a great job right now.

I’m doing well. I’m trusted. I’m respected. People like working with me.
And every so often, I get this quiet fear that creeps in out of nowhere:

What happens if they Google me?

My background check didn’t come up. No one asked. No red flags were raised. On paper, I’m just another project manager doing her job. But somewhere in the back of my mind lives the headline — the one that still follows my name around like a shadow.

The article says I killed two people.
That isn’t true.
But I’ve learned that truth doesn’t always matter as much as what’s been published.

This is the strange part of life after prison no one really talks about. You can be free, employed, sober, responsible — and still feel like you’re waiting to be found out. Not for who you are now, but for who someone else once said you were.

So I work hard. I show up. I try not to over-explain or shrink myself or preemptively confess things no one is asking. Some days I forget the fear entirely. Other days, it sits quietly beside me while I answer emails and lead meetings and pretend I’m not holding my breath.

This is what imposter syndrome looks like after the headline.
Not insecurity about my ability — but fear about my name.

I’m learning to live anyway.