Confidence When You Don't Have It

I think we have this idea that confident people actually feel confident. Like they wake up knowing exactly what they're doing, make decisions without second guessing themselves, and take risks without immediately wondering if they just made a huge mistake.

I'm starting to realize that might be complete bullshit.

Because lately, I've been doing a lot of things that probably look like confidence from the outside, while on the inside I'm thinking, I really hope I know what the hell I'm doing.

This week really put that into perspective for me.

My daughter had to have dental surgery, and I knew she was scared. She was looking at me for reassurance, and as her mom, I needed to be the person who made her feel safe. I needed my face, my voice, and my words to tell her that everything was okay.

So that's what I did. I told her she was going to be okay. I told her I was right there. I told her she was brave and that she could do this.

Meanwhile, inside, I was freaking the hell out.

There is something about being a mom that teaches you how to hold two completely different emotions at the same time. I could be terrified for her and still be her safe place. I could want to cry and still smile at her. I could have a million thoughts running through my head and still look her in the eyes and say, "You're okay. I've got you."

The thing is, I believed what I was telling her. I knew she was going to be okay. I trusted the people taking care of her. But knowing those things didn't make the fear disappear. I just had to trust that everything was going to be okay while still being scared.

As I sit here in the waiting room writing this, waiting for her to come out of surgery, I'm realizing how familiar this feeling actually is.

I'm sitting here telling myself the same things I told her. She's going to be okay. Trust the process. Everything is going to be fine. And even though I believe those things, there's still that little part of me that's freaking the hell out.

Then it hit me. I do this all the time.

Obviously, my daughter's surgery and running The Painted Button aren't remotely the same thing. But that feeling of telling yourself, Trust the process. Everything is going to work out, while internally feeling like you might throw up?

Yeah. I know that feeling really well.

There are moments when I feel unstoppable with this business. I see what we're building and how far we've come, and I get so excited thinking about what it could become. I have a million ideas. I want to grow. I want to push myself. I want to see just how far we can take this thing.

Then there's the side people don't really see.

The side where I'm scared. Where I spend money and immediately wonder if I should have. Where I send an email and keep checking my phone hoping someone responds. Where I put something I've created online and wonder if anyone actually cares. Where something doesn't go the way I imagined and suddenly I'm questioning every decision I've ever made.

Sometimes I think, What if I'm putting all of this time, money, energy, and heart into something and it doesn't become what I think it can?

That's the thought I don't like saying out loud.

Because I want this. I really, really want this.

And I think that's exactly what makes it so scary.

When you've poured pieces of yourself into something, sacrificed sleep and weekends, and your brain never really shuts off because you're constantly thinking about the next idea, design, event, or opportunity, the possibility of it not working feels personal.

Sometimes I wish I could see five years into the future just long enough to know all of this is worth it. Let me see The Painted Button thriving. Let me see that the late nights mattered and the risks paid off. Then send me right back here.

But that's not how any of this works.

There isn't a guarantee. There's just me, standing where I am right now, making the best decisions I can and hoping like hell I'm moving in the right direction.

Maybe that's what confidence actually is.

Maybe confidence isn't walking into something knowing you're going to succeed. Maybe it's walking into it knowing there's a chance you won't and deciding what you want is worth trying for anyway.

I watched my daughter do that this week. She was scared, but she did it. And while I was busy telling her how brave she was, I realized maybe I need to give myself some of that same reassurance.

I can be scared and still trust myself. I can question things and still move forward. I can have moments where I genuinely wonder what the hell I'm doing and still believe I'm capable of figuring it out.

So right now, I'm choosing to trust the process, even though I'd really love for the process to send me a detailed itinerary, confirmation number, and written guarantee.

I'm choosing to bet on myself.

And when that little voice in my head starts asking, What if this doesn't work?

I'm trying to answer it with something different.

But what if it does?

So I'm going to keep going. Even when I'm scared. Even when I'm questioning myself. Even when I feel like I might throw up.

Because apparently, sometimes that's what confidence looks like.

Until next week,

-Brittney The Painted Button