You know that feeling when you have to do something that makes your stomach flip a little? That’s where confidence lives. At least, that’s where I’ve been finding mine. For me, it’s meant going to events on my own, trying diners I’ve never been to with friends I barely know, and just… speaking up in conversations when I’d usually stay quiet. Terrifying? Absolutely. Worth it? Every single time.
I like looking back at who I used to be. Funny, slightly shy, a bit confident, annoyingly persistent at times—but caring, too. I remember the awkward silences, the silly jokes, the small victories, and yes, even the moments I completely messed up. Life changes us, doesn’t it? The highs, the lows, the mistakes, the wins—they all shape us. And while it’s nice to think about the past, dwelling on it too much steals from now. The past is the past. The present—and the future—deserve your energy.
But let’s be honest: change is exhausting. Pushing yourself out of your comfort zone, challenging habits, speaking up when the old me would have stayed silent—it feels like hard work. And sometimes, it doesn’t feel worth it at all. But here’s the thing: every tiny act of courage adds up. Each time I step into the uncomfortable, I get a little braver, a little more confident, and a little clearer about who I am.
I used to panic at the idea of going to an event alone. What if I sat there awkwardly? What if no one spoke to me? And diners with new friends? Don’t get me started. I worried about saying the wrong thing or being “too much” of myself. Now? I try to relax. I laugh at my own jokes, I listen as much as I talk, and I remind myself that it’s okay to just be me. Confidence isn’t about being perfect. It’s about showing up, being authentic, and trusting yourself enough to exist fully in the moment.
Looking back, I can see the changes. That shy, hesitant version of me? She’s still there, but she’s quieter now, replaced by someone willing to step into the unknown. Change is hard, yes. But it’s also incredibly rewarding. Growth comes from small, intentional acts of bravery and trusting that you can handle more than you think.
So, as I slip into my suede brown boat-style loafers on my way to a community event—alone—I tell myself, “Babe, you’re okay.” And you know what? I really am.
