Confidence

Confidence is an illusive feeling without faith in something.

As I learn to trust the ground underneath me and in something around me, I finally feel that thing called confidence settling in my bones. It has me wonder why it took me so long.

Traumatic happenings rob us of feeling sure and safe, simple and plain. Do you ever do so well at coping that you have no idea that you’re missing out on faith and calm? It’s funny I ask because if you’re doing well at it, you’ll not be able to answer that question. I’d been there for decades. And still slip into that unblissful ignorance time to time.

As most not-confident people do, I played at seeming confident, capable, dependable–“Janan’s got it”. Underneath that surface had been me constantly and subtly freaking out that I do not have it. I’m trying, but the world is against me. Something is out to get me. There is always danger and there is always failure, so that means I’m always on the brink of being judged and ousted. And unloved. Affection would leave my life if I seem like I don’t got it.

What I type above is something I didn’t have words for or even a formed idea around until this past month. That all lived as the warped yet perfectly clear plastic I looked through, like sensation-less contact lenses. I’d have frustrated outbursts, being unable to describe why no one’s kind words, tough words, helpful perspectives, or physical comfort got anywhere near resolving my lack of trust and faith.

A willingness, sparked from deeply within, from the Divine, is what coaxes me down the path to freedom. With that willingness, I practice. I inquire. I unlearn. I’ve unlearned decades of betting that my shortcomings would be punished or that my very being is evil. The flower that unfolds from that, I’m discovering, is true confidence. Not bravado, not being the loudest one, not accomplishing more than others–confidence.

​I am faithful that if I can do it, so can you.