" Doubts, then. “I’m not--”
“No,” he growled. “You don’t get to say that. You don't get to say you're not anything.”
Of course he knew. Those residual fears that I couldn’t ever be rid of, a holdover from when I didn’t think I’d amount to much. Maybe I could see now that I meant something to someone. Or someones. Maybe I could see it in their eyes when they looked at me. But that didn’t mean I didn't feel like I was still a kid playing dress-up. Or a sheep in wolves’ clothing. It was a mask, this thing I was, and I wore it well.
Funny thing was, I almost believed it.
“Ox,” Joe said, sounding frustrated. “How can you not see it? "

― T.J. Klune , Wolfsong (Green Creek, #1)