Latest
How I Learned to Build Self-Confidence After Years of Self-Doubt
Self-confidence?
What’s that?
I say that jokingly now, but for most of my life, confidence was something that never really stood by my side.
I grew up incredibly insecure. Everything I considered a flaw—my quietness, my shyness, my awkwardness—always felt like proof that I wasn’t good enough. Like I couldn’t match other people’s energy, their charisma, their overall presence and the way they portrayed themselves to the world.
I lived in constant self-doubt and low self-esteem. I watched so many other people around me grow and flourish in ways I could never match up to. Putting yourself down day after day, year after year, does something to you that truly makes you your own worst enemy.
For a long time, I thought confident people were just born that way. They seemed so comfortable speaking up, trying new things, and putting themselves out there with the utter hesitation I would feel. My life has been spent questioning myself and worrying too much about what others thought of me.
I remember one time when I was in college taking a speech course. It was a requirement in order to graduate. This class terrified me even before I started taking it. I had put it off for a long time because I just wasn’t ready for the obvious humiliation waiting for me. But eventually the time came where I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had no choice but to face my biggest fear head-on.
I had done my research and picked a class that only required you to do four speeches throughout the semester. I’d seen other classes where you’d have to get up and speak every day, and that sounded like the worst thing on the planet, so I chose the “easier” route.
I’ll never forget the first speech I gave. It was choosing one song that you felt represented something significant to you. I chose Nirvana’s “All Apologies.” A perfect song to communicate how I felt internally. “What else should I be? All apologies.” It was a song that truly spoke to me.
I remember writing out my 3–5 minute speech perfectly. I’d rehearsed it over and over again so I’d have it memorized. And I did. But when it came time to get out there and perform, I completely froze. I’d lost all feeling in my body (I’m surprised I didn’t pass out). My voice rattled and shook so much that I could barely get through a sentence. My face was flushed. My eyes were nearly welled up with tears. My heart was racing faster than it ever had before. I just remember standing there feeling so incredibly exposed. Looking at everyone just stare at me, watching me fail line by line. Those were some of the most difficult moments I’d ever faced.
I rushed out of class afterward and cried hysterically from all of the embarrassment. I couldn’t get over the humiliation. I couldn’t stop caring about what other people might’ve thought. It was pure torture for me. It still stays in my mind to this day as one of the worst experiences of my life.
But when I reflect back on it, I realize how much I learned about confidence. I noticed that I was prepared and put a lot of hard work and effort into that speech. I might not have delivered it perfectly, but the substance, the depth of what I was trying to communicate, was there. I was just so encumbered by fear, anxiety, and the thought of rejection that it psyched me out before I even gave the speech.
Confidence?
It might not have been there in the obvious sense, but it was there all along underneath it all.
I realized that I got through the hard part. I pushed myself when I was terrified, but I got up there and did it. That shows some sort of confidence, right?
I think one of the biggest misconceptions about confidence is that you need to feel confident before doing something scary.
In reality, the opposite is true.
Think about learning a new skill. Nobody starts out feeling completely capable. Confidence develops through repetition, practice, and experience.
Every time you do something uncomfortable, you gather evidence that you can handle more than you thought.
Even if it doesn’t go perfectly, you’ve proven that you’re willing to at least try.
When I first started blogging, I was terrified to put myself out there. I knew that I wanted to share my experiences growing up neurodivergent and how I could possibly help others feel seen in a way that I hadn’t for so long.
When I finally got my diagnoses a few years ago, I suddenly found a confidence in myself that I never knew existed. It was like an epiphany for me. I realized I was introduced to the real me for the very first time. And even though there was a lot of heaviness in that, knowing I’d spent my whole life undiagnosed, there was also clarity and understanding.
I look at where I’m at right now and I’ll tell you I’m shocked to see the person before you. Never in a million years did I think I would actually tell my story. Never did I think I would be vocal and share my opinions on social media. And never did I think I would be this vulnerable.
But wow, here I am.
This newfound confidence gave me a little nudge to be more vocal and stand up for myself. I used to let people walk all over me like a doormat. I thought that they would only accept me and like me if I gave a little more of myself to them. So I did. I did anything and everything that was asked of me. I stayed in the background and supported them while they succeeded. I stayed behind because I thought I had to. But now, it’s so much different.
Now, I put myself first. If I don’t like the way I’m being treated, I stand up for myself and I’m very vocal about it. Almost too vocal. It’s like suddenly this fear, this anxiety of speaking up had vanished. If someone attacks my character, I’m right there ready to defend myself. If someone rolls their eyes in a subtle way when I say something, I call them out. I think it’s because I’m so fed up with being mistreated, misunderstood, and a second thought in other people’s minds.
Don’t get me wrong, I still get nervous, I still doubt myself, and I still have days when those old insecurities come back. But the difference now is that I trust myself more than I used to.
Confidence isn’t believing you’ll never fail. It’s believing you’ll be okay if you do.
It’s trusting that one awkward conversation, one mistake, one rejection, or one setback doesn’t define who you are.
What is one moment when you realized you could do something even while feeling scared?
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.” — Nelson Mandela
