I used to have real self-confidence issues, but lately I’ve just become more comfortable in my own skin. For me it was about doing things I was afraid to do, that I was sure I would fail. Sometimes I did fail and other times I succeeded. Learning that you can fail without bringing on Armageddon was the most useful thing for me. Same with being disliked - I had some experiences where I was disliked or people were unhappy with me, and it didn’t take away all of the good things in my life. Now I think, ‘‘I’ll probably be able to do this well, but if I don’t, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out eventually.’’
I wish that worked for me, olives. I don’t often fail in such endeavors, but the tension is uncontrollable, and, worse, I resent it. Then the whole task becomes sickening. The memory of that matters more than the achievement, which is usually trivial. What is to be done then?
Note to gracer: I just found Impro on Scribd, and am reading around in it. I’m surprised that it isn’t more about acting - there’s music, art, teaching, a lot in there I didn’t expect from your words.
I didn’t fail until I started doing new and deliberately difficult things. I think it’s a necessary risk in order to live your life. Fail. Fail big.
A couple of years ago I had this professor who scared the crap out of me. I’ve always been afraid of public speaking but over the years I’ve done it so much that I became quite good at it. I had a group presentation on the last day of class my first year, and I decided to wing it. But I was going on four hours of sleep, skipped breakfast as usual (because I would get sick if I ate before a speech) and downed a can of Pepsi right before class.
Things were going along fine when the fatigue and caffeine and the fact that my terrifying professor was sitting there looking at me caused me to totally blank out. As soon as I blanked out, I panicked, Oh my god I can’t believe this is really happening. This is my worst nightmare come true. I thought I was going to pass out. My voice was shaking so hard I wasn’t even sure I was intelligible, and my ears were ringing so loudly that I wasn’t even sure what I was saying. It was like talking through molasses. I could see people straining to understand me. I finally finished - yay, class dismissed for the year! - but no, I was so pissed off at myself and humiliated that I couldn’t enjoy anything. I basically sat at the bar with my friends feeling sorry for myself and then went home early. IIRC I was depressed for weeks.
Know how many speeches I’ve given since that horrible day? Dozens. I had no choice - I was in grad school and there were assignments to complete. And I did fine in all of them. It’s not that I don’t get nervous any more, it’s just that deep down I know that the worst can happen and I will still survive, and people won’t even really remember, and it doesn’t mean the end of the world. Sometimes, we just have bad days.
My current job is a really good example of how I’ve gained in confidence. I basically went from being a lackey intern to in charge of an entire organization’s development strategy. I was nervous, sure, but deep down I knew that even if I screwed up a lot in the beginning, eventually I’d get the hang of it. Failure is absolutely 100% inevitable in life. Psychologically being able to give yourself that room to fail is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself.
And you’d better be able to give it to yourself, because no one else can give it to you, or even help you find it.
I’m on the brink of a possible new life, and I suspect deep down that if I’m too kind to myself, it will all be a waste. I may have to start pushing my own buttons. Letting others push them too. Really lay myself bare to deeper depression, bring myself to the edge of collapse or even past it, before any feeling of confidence or power comes along.
olives’ words strike me as particularly chilling because failure is a peculiar paradox of a thing:
-The only way out of it is deeper in.
-The only way to succeed is to fail more often.
-The only cure for failure is more, or worse, failure.
-The only way to defeat failure is to surrender to it.
-And the only way to learn to deal with failure is to fail to deal with it.
That’s interesting. I have been reading Strange Things Happen by Stewart Copeland - delivered as daily emails by the excellent DailyLit service.
At one point he mentions that:
It’s exhilarating to play shows, but there is an excitement lag. During the show the business at hand (music, songs, arrangements, and so forth) is distracting from the fundamental coolness of the thing. But under the hot stream of water the thrill sinks in. I rerun the show in my head and revel in the moments of brilliance, while helping myself to absolution for the fuckups.
Please let me know what you think! I love the book and still find it so helpful. I have recommended it to so many people over the years, and have so often heard “it changed my life”. However, I can imagine that that could be different for you if you have trouble relating to someone who is very different.
Gah! Too late to edit:
I rather like your summary. I think it’s a variation of what I was saying earlier: when the little man in your head starts his comments, we tend to fight him. But that’s a huge amount of energy spent not making music* and you never win: you then begin the commentary about why you are such an idiot for being distracted by these thoughts. So accept what the little man in your head says. Just say to yourself: that’s right, my hands are sweaty and my voice is shaky. And everyone can see it. Accept it and observe it in yourself. Juts note everything it does: “hey, look at that particular wobble in my voice. Wow.” Take everything along in your performance (or job interview or asking out of attractive person) as part of it. I think the important thing is the detached observation and acceptance. It takes away the power of the little man in your head. So sort of as you said: surrender to the failure. It doesn’t mean berating yourself or seeing yourself as a failure.
- or whatever you were doing
NB ok, now I sound like I’m completely crazy talking about the man in your head. It’s just that that is what we used to say in drama school and I find it a useful way of thinking about it. It’s ok: I accept that I’m a total loon 
The best explanation of confidence I’ve ever read came from Daniel Kahneman’s book, Thinking, Fast and Slow. Here is a short description of confidence from an excerpt from his book that appeared in the New York Times:
Coherence of the story and the ease with which it comes to mind determines how confident we are. Confidence during a performance will be determined by how easily the story of you as a good performer will come to mind and by how coherent it is. That’s one reason you gain confidence after several good performances. The story of you as a good performer will come to your mind more easily if you have more memories of it happening.
What not caring might do is prevent you from being self-conscious and from seeking out flaws in your performance that might conflict with the story of you as good performer. The less flaws, the more coherent the story, and the more confident you are.
There is a theory that the reason more intelligent people seem less confident is because they are too good at seeing flaws. The story of them as a good performer is never coherent.
I have my own theory that people who approach life through well reasoned evaluations will have more trouble understanding confidence. That’s because as the quote above says, confidence is a feeling, and therefore it’s illogical. I like how up thread Beware of Doug describes the paradox of failure as “chilling”. That’s because fear, which drives self-consciousness, and thwarts confidence, is also an illogical emotion. We become less scared after we confront our fear. Fear is controlled by the past experience of going through something and not getting hurt, it’s not always controlled - to the chagrin of one too many nerds - by the logical evaluation of future risks associated with an event.
Confidence, like fear, is also not controlled by logical evaluation. A logical assessment of your performance abilities might make you even less confident.
But it is important to note that a lack of confidence is not always a bad thing. As Voltaire once said, “Doubt is uncomfortable, certainty is ridiculous.” A lack of confidence might be uncomfortable, but that discomfort is the price we have to pay if we want to avoid blind certainty. If you can’t achieve confidence through delusional adherence to the story that you are a good performer, then you’ll have to go through what Olives went through with her speeches. A lot of discomfort, followed by more memories of her as a good performer, and finally a brain willing to accept the story that she is a good performer based on her past experiences.
I like to think that the core of confidence lays in authenticity. When I strive for personal integrity it is my hope that I am taking the path that is the most healthy for myself.
And as others have mentioned if it’s the real deal it doesn’t come without exorcizing some fear and exercising some courage. Facing fear and finding out I can walk through it intact is confidence-building.
Some people say that one of the signs of mental health is when your insides and outsides match. I think there is truth in that. When I pretend to have confidence which isn’t there I cheat myself out of others getting to know who I really am. And I lose out on a chance to get some help from others.
I do care about what other people think about me, with some caution. I work to be a person of integrity and I would like that to show on the outside. If I get enough messages that there’s something awry in my social connections I need to look at that.
It can’t be the basis of my self-esteem but it needs to be integrated into the way I see myself if I plan to be part of the larger world.
I like what people have written here. That’s the best part of the journey - knowing that others are on the path!
Exactly. And furthermore, he doesn’t let something as minor as getting turned down for a date be a big deal and a reason for bitter recrimination and awful soul-searching like so many guys do.
Confidence is basically a combination of trust in yourself combined with belief in yourself. It doesn’t really have to do with giving a shit one way or another, although it might seem like it from the outside.
I also think that confidence comes from accurate assessment of risk and situations. Confident people often have a better idea of how things actually are and don’t sell themselves short like the non-confident do.
For example, when asking that girl out, there are really 2 outcomes- no or yes, and really no risk either way, unless you make it out to be a big deal if she says no. The confident man will realize that it’s not a big deal if he goes and talks to her, and will ask her out. He’ll probably also realize that by doing so, he raises his odds significantly just by doing so.
I’m a pretty confident guy in most things- but that doesn’t mean that I think I’ll do well at anything- if someone said I’d be playing for the Texans next week at my age, experience level and current fitness level, I’d confidently say that I’d get my ass handed to me.
If you think about it in terms of “stories” like Lakai’s link mentions, basically confident people have not only better (i.e. more successful stories), but potentially more accurate ones, I think.
People have different degrees of confidence in different things. I think it involves focusing on the positive, not the negative result of what you are doing
I was never very confident about asking girls out, and probably wouldn’t be even now if Og forbid I ever had to again. But I’m very confident in public speaking and even telling jokes in public. I’ve had enough success that I visualize people laughing, and if the joke bombs - which some do - it doesn’t bother me a bit. “They can’t all be gems” to quote Johnny Carson.
If you see yourself as someone who succeeds, you will be confident. Even when you fail. When I fail I just try it again or try something else, with no regrets. So I disagree with some of Beware of Doug’s list. The cure for failure is not to fail more often, but to keep failing in different ways until you succeed.
Bold mine, I would state it that Confidence only comes when you know, like and accept who you are and you will not compromise that.
It depends what the confidence relates to.
I am fully confident that if I am walking down a dark lonely street and there’s a really dodgy looking guy walking towards me, unless he is an absolute sociopath, he’s going to continue walking by me and look for an easier target, if that indeed was what he was out looking for. That’s because I can easily carry off the “you’d better not mess with me” vibe.
Ask me to speak in front of a crowd, or approach a woman I found extremely attractive and engage her in chit-chat, and I’d go to pieces.
That detached observation is something I couldn’t even begin to find. I suppose what I need to do is go out and court failure like my life depended on it - because at my time of life, it may - and let my self-criticism run absolutely wild. Then go home, drink too much, puke, throw things at the wall, just bring hell down on myself. Whatever it takes to wear myself out enough to lose the feelings and be able to repeat the cycle - with only the hope that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
I’m not looking forward to the experience - I see a real possibility l will come out damaged in new ways. But if that’s the only alternative to just wasting away not taking risks, maybe I need to find some real hell on earth, instead of just what I make in my head.
Inherent contradiction here…if you exorcise fear, you’re not facing it. Don’t you have to let it hit you full on and just drag yourself through, over and over?
That’s what I always understood about facing fear: that it can’t be a gentle, caring process. You can’t be taking care of yourself and still get it done. You have to force yourself deep into the fear - again and again and again - before you start to see through it and conquer it.
This reminds me of a thought I had reading your “Emotional Vampire” thread. I wonder if you’d be more successful, balanced, confident, happy, and all of that if you didn’t have the comfort of knowing that you don’t have to do things.
IIRC you live off your family’s money so you have little in the “have to” department. If you had to have a job and go to work every day and function in society because you had no choice I wonder if these things that you obsess about would take a back seat to survival?
Regardless of the answer to that perhaps you really should push yourself (within reason) to accomplish more/feel better since (it seems) what you’re doing now and have done up to now just doesn’t seem like it’s worked for you.
Good luck.
I’m not going out to fight to survive when I don’t have to, and if I had room for real gratitude in my swollen, poisoned brain, I would thank god and be grateful I didn’t have to. As it is, I have such tremendous issues of guilt about work and the avoidance of it that I would be liable to make it an exercise in self-destruction. When you tell the Victim type to suck it up, he takes it as an instruction to go even deeper into his misery.
nm. This isn’t the forum for it.
I sometimes think that, far from wallowing, I’ve actually been hiding out from my share of misery. I’m haunted by the idea that I owe life a lot more suffering than I’m prepared to give. It’s like payback to a world that doesn’t care, because I never forgave it for not caring.