Okay, let’s start with a confession: I used to rehearse ordering coffee in my head before walking into a café. ☕️ Yep, that level of shy. Fast-forward to now, where I just gave a keynote speech at a women’s summit (no, I won’t stop casually dropping that). How did I morph from someone who hid behind potted plants at parties to a girl who low-key loves being the main character? Buckle up, babes—this is my messy, unglamorous, wildly rewarding confidence glow-up story.
Let’s dismantle the biggest myth first: confidence isn’t something you’re born with. It’s built—like IKEA furniture, but with more swearing and existential crises. 💁♀️ My journey began when I realized my shyness wasn’t “cute” or “quirky.” It was a cage. I’d say “sorry” for existing in public spaces, avoid eye contact like it was a zombie apocalypse, and let opportunities slip by because I feared judgment. But here’s the twist: confidence isn’t about erasing fear—it’s about outsmarting it.
The game-changer? Micro rebellions.
I started small: wearing red lipstick to the grocery store (groundbreaking, I know 👄), saying “no” to plans I hated, and asking ONE question in work meetings (even if my voice shook). Each tiny “win” rewired my brain. Science backs this up—neuroplasticity, baby! Every time you push past discomfort, you strengthen neural pathways that say, “Hey, we survived that. Maybe we’re kinda badass?”
Then came the cringe era—because growth is never pretty.
I joined improv classes (where I tripped over chairs and forgot my own name), cold-messaged mentors (got ghosted twice 💀), and did a solo trip to Lisbon where I got lost for 3 hours. But here’s the magic: embarrassment loses its power when you reframe it as data collection. Every awkward moment taught me: a) the world doesn’t end, and b) strangers care way less than your anxiety claims.
But let’s get real—confidence isn’t just solo work. Your tribe is your vibe.
I curated a “hype squad” of friends who text things like, “Send that risky email! If it flops, we’ll blame Mercury retrograde 🌌.” Meanwhile, I distanced from energy vampires who’d say, “Are you sure you’re qualified?” (Spoiler: nobody’s “qualified.” We’re all Googling how to adult.) Surround yourself with people who see your potential before you do.
Now, the juicy part: confidence is contagious.
When I started owning my voice, weird things happened. My quiet coworker began pitching ideas. My mom signed up for dance classes. My bestie launched her Etsy shop. It’s like we’re all subconsciously giving each other permission to take up space. And honey, the world needs your flavor of weird. 🍭
But here’s the truth bomb nobody tells you: Confidence isn’t linear. Some days I feel like a goddess who invented electricity; others, I cry over burnt toast. The difference? Now I know my worth isn’t tied to my mood. I’ve got a “proof of awesome” list in my Notes app—compliments, achievements, even that time a toddler called me “sparkly.” 🌟 When doubt creeps in, I weaponize that list.
So, to my fellow recovering wallflowers: Start where you are. Wear the loud outfit. Speak up in the Zoom call. Dance badly at brunch. Every time you choose courage over comfort, you’re not just building confidence—you’re building a legacy. And remember: flowers grow through dirt, darling. Now go out there and bloom so hard it hurts. 💐