You know I really think that this whole confidence thing is overrated. My clients come into my office all the time asking me how to become more confident.

And the thing is, you can’t just get confidence. It is just something that comes with experience—just like gray hair and bad vision.

What actually matters is courage.

One of my sons is obsessed with soccer. He’s probably not going to be a professional player, but he’d love to make a specific local team.

One morning in late winter, I asked him if he wanted to sign up for that team’s spring training. It would give him the chance to improve, get some tips, and increase his odds of making it. He said, “No, I’m good.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Club soccer? That’s a serious commitment—for the whole family. So I said, “Okay,” and walked away.

He left for school, and a little voice inside me—Miss Clavel-style—whispered, “Something is not right.”

I knew exactly why he said no. So I signed him up for a trial class anyway.

When he got home, I told him to grab his cleats and shin guards and hop in the car. As we drove, I said, “I think I know why you said you were good this morning. I think you do want to go to spring training but you’re scared to, so it’s easier not to do it.”

And, he started quietly crying.

“I understand honey- I totally get it. Take a breath and tell me, what do you think you’re afraid of?”

“I’m scared that I’m going to be the worst one there. That everyone will know each other and I’ll be all alone.”

“Wanna know a secret?” I asked.

“WHAT, MOM?” he said through tears.

“Everyone feels that way. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t have a job. Not one kid at that spring training is going to be worried about whether you’re the worst one there.

“How do you know that?” he asked me blinking back tears,

“Because they’re all too busy worrying about what everyone else is thinking of them. Their brains are too preoccupied with themselves to notice what you’re doing.”

He looked at me like I’d handed him the secret to life. “Wait, for real? Everyone?”

“Yup my love- that is the truth.”

He agreed to try one class—as long as I stayed in the parking lot. But the second he stepped on the field, a kid ran up and said, “I know you—we go to the same school,” and kicked a ball over. My son immediately pretended not to know me, and I drove off.

When I picked him up, I asked how it went.

“Sign me up for the rest of Spring Training,” he said.

So why did I make him go, even though he was crying? Even though it made my life harder?

Because pushing through fear is more important than waiting for confidence.

He really wanted to do it—he was just scared.

And then he went. Three times a week. And that’s how the confidence came.

Because he pushed through fear to do something that mattered to him.

No one is born with confidence- that’s a delusion.

Confidence is earned, not granted.

You do something scary. Then you do it again. And again. Your skills grow. And that’s when confidence quietly arrives. It’s not fierce, it’s safe.

Confidence isn’t loud. It isn’t competitive. It’s a quiet knowing. A steady, internal understanding that you have what you need to do what you want to do.

And that’s it.

So don’t wait for confidence to come before you do something. Do things that you really want to do and bring that fear with you. Give it a cookie and some milk and drag with you to wherever you want to go. And know that eventually, it will leave or it will simply transform.