So after a week, a lot of sleepless nights, and watching the same Natwest advert over and over again (the one with a little girl so adorable she makes me want to claw out my own heart just to stop myself from crying - seriously I can't cope), I am finally up to speed with the Game Of Thrones bandwagon.
Ravens were first brought to the Tower of London in about 1883 to serve as props for tales of Gothic horror told by Beefeaters to the tourists. During World War II, people used these ravens as spotters for enemy bombs and planes, and their employment was quickly mythologized as a prophecy--that the British Empire would fall if the ravens ever left the Tower.
On my daughter's first Christmas, my husband Gregor and I discussed Santa. Do we? Don't we? For him, the decision was easy - we can play all the games, but we don't have to actually tell our daughter Santa is real. I thought this sounded reasonable. But part of me was torn. Would we be denying our daughter the magic of Christmas?
Impostor Syndrome describes the status of feeling like you don't know as much as you think you know on a given subject, that those around you know infinitely more, and that you might be found out as a fraud at any minute. Sound familiar? It's a problem from which even the most successful and outwardly confident people suffer.