by Jennifer S. White for Elephant Journal
I’m regularly told that one of my main personal attributes is self-confidence.
Remember when I told you about that rave I went to in high school?
I forgot to mention that I felt so out of place, so insecure, so improperly dressed—when I was confronted by a (drugged out) man while waiting in a long line for the unisex bathroom.
This hopped-up guy was going down the restroom queue unabashedly saying what he thought about us. (Yes, it was as weird of an experience as it sounds.) He got to me and paused, looked me up and down, and then backed up a good two feet and said, “Wow, man, you’re, like, the most confident person I’ve ever met. Wow.” Then he walked to the girl behind me and told her that her angst-riddled frown was from being unlucky in love. Anyways, back to my point.
My point is that, for many years, I’ve often been viewed as a confident sort of gal, when my reality is that my natural tendency is to be quite insecure.
Yet I learned to fake confidence early on—and there’s one main reason why.