Under Dog...

I can feel it when it happens—the subtle shift in the air, the quick glance away, the tone that softens just enough to suggest that I’m not being taken seriously. It's not always blatant, but it’s there, like a quiet dismissal that hovers over the conversation. And it stings. Every. Single. Time.

There’s something deeply frustrating about being underestimated, especially when it happens repeatedly. It’s as if people have decided, based on some arbitrary criteria, that I’m not capable, that I’m somehow less-than, that my potential has already been capped. Maybe it’s because I don’t always follow the traditional path, or because I process things differently, or because I’m not loud about my abilities. Whatever the reason, it’s like being placed in a box that I never agreed to be in—a box that’s way too small for who I actually am.

People underestimate me for a lot of reasons, and I’ve spent years trying to figure out why. Maybe I don’t fit the mold they’ve created in their minds. Maybe they’ve confused my quiet moments for a lack of confidence, or my need for extra time to process for incompetence. Or maybe they’ve just made assumptions based on the surface-level interactions we’ve had, never bothering to dig deeper. But here’s the thing: underestimating me doesn’t limit what I can do. It only limits how much you’ll notice when I exceed your expectations.

What people don’t see is the depth of my determination, the way I analyze and reanalyze situations to find the best possible outcome, or the fire that burns just beneath the surface, driving me to prove every doubter wrong. They don’t see the hours I put into mastering a skill, the way I turn obstacles into opportunities, or the resilience I’ve built up from years of being underestimated.

Underestimating me isn’t just about not recognizing my abilities; it’s about underestimating my experience, my knowledge, my lived reality. It’s about assuming that because I don’t present myself in a certain way, I don’t have anything valuable to offer. And that’s where they’re wrong.

I’m not just sitting idly by, waiting for someone to hand me an opportunity. I’m out here creating my own, piecing together my path in ways that might not make sense to everyone else but make perfect sense to me. I’ve learned to navigate a world that often feels like it wasn’t built for people like me, and that’s given me a strength and a perspective that’s invaluable.

But the most frustrating part of being underestimated is the way it forces me to expend energy proving myself when I could be using that energy to keep pushing forward. It’s like having to climb a mountain with someone constantly telling you that you’re not strong enough to reach the top. It doesn’t stop me from climbing, but it sure as hell makes the journey more exhausting.

I’ve come to realize that being underestimated can be a kind of superpower, though. It lowers expectations to the point where, when I do succeed—and I will—the impact is all the more powerful. I’ve learned to harness that underestimation, to let it fuel me rather than deter me. It’s become a challenge, a way to show the world—and myself—just what I’m capable of.

So go ahead, underestimate me. Assume that I’m not going to make it, that I’m not cut out for whatever challenge lies ahead. I’ve gotten used to it. Just know that when I do succeed—when I reach that goal, achieve that dream, defy those odds—I won’t be surprised. Because I always knew I could do it. The only person who doubted it was you.