Confidence

Confidence is one of those funny things: you only know you had it when you lose it.

Confidence is different to arrogance (thinking you know everything and saying so) and defensiveness (thinking you know nothing and making sure no one finds out).

There is a reason why we often say someone is ‘quietly confident’.

To be confident is to know that you know something or are good at something without having to broadcast it to everyone, while at the same time not keeping your knowledge/skill a secret or refusing to help someone with it.

Confused?

It’s easier to identify confidence by talking about what it means to lose it.

It took me until my 30s to find my confidence, although I wasn’t particularly looking for it. In my 30s I discovered that I could teach teenagers. It came naturally to me. My own children were still at primary school and my paramedic hubby was working shift-work when I stepped back into employment as a newly trained English teacher. It was a busy time.

I didn’t realise just how confident I felt in myself doing this until my confidence took a hit.

I encountered a student intent on bullying me into giving undeserved VCE grades and found myself explaining my professional practice to parents while my leadership watched on. After all of the accusations (which proved false), I had to go back into that classroom and continue to teach that student.

At around the same time, I made friends with some folks intent on getting the most from our relationship. I began to doubt myself over small things and defer to their opinions. Before I really knew where I was, I was believing the untrue picture of myself they presented me with. And, just like that, my confidence drained away.

I became anxious about pleasing people and not making mistakes. This cycle led to exhaustion and withdrawal, and the inability to continue coping with my childhood trauma. That alone seemed to be all the evidence needed to prove the false opinions of other’s true.

That’s when I decided to do my PhD.

Crazy, right? Yup. Totally.

I knew I had trauma to work out. And I knew I loved poetry. I decided to trust the university. If they let me in, then I could reassure myself that they believed I was capable.

So, when did I find my confidence again?

It’s sort of snuck up on me. It really has. Over the last three years, every time my supervisor affirmed work I had done, every time he gave me feedback believing I had the skills to respond, and every milestone I reached added another little drop into my confidence store.

Yesterday the gauge on my confidence store suddenly jumped from ’empty’ to ‘quietly energetic’.

You see, I am nearly finished writing my exegesis and am up to thinking about the Introduction. As my supervisor and I chatted about it, I waved my hand casually at a pile of notes and said, ‘I’ve found an “in”. It’s here amongst the clutter. I can’t remember exactly what it is but I know it’s there’.

My supervisor replied (paraphrased, of course!):

‘I’m encouraged to hear that you have your way “in” and can’t remember it right now.
That’s called confidence. It’s a good sign.’

Lost your confidence? Here are some random tips that I found helpful at different times:

• Get some rest
• Narrow your focus
• Do something that makes you happy
• Stop comparing yourself to others
• Let go of people who aren’t helping
• Find people who celebrate you for you
• Dream big
• Take care of yourself
• Remind yourself that there are things you do well (There are! Stop being so hard on yourself!)
• Kindly tell the truth
• Be aware that some people don’t want you to change. Filter their responses.
• Know what you are feeling
• Reconnect with your body
• Ask for help (choose wisely)
• Change your definition of success
• Embrace imperfection
• Enjoy small moments
• Do something every day
• Give it time

To show you that I am genuine, here is a photo of me this morning.

Yes, I am lucky to have symmetrical features (it is only luck, by the way). Yes, I am also lucky to own loads of books (I didn’t always). But look at me. I’m tired. I’m dressed in daggy clothes. I’m vainly posting pictures of myself! With all of that, it isn’t even a very good photo.

But here’s the thing.

I chase a dream. I give it all I can. I persevere when it is hard. I don’t try to be everything to everyone (my current social group is quite small). I have my thing to contribute to this world that no one else can contribute.

You do, too.