Trusting Our Confidence
Fear Isn’t Always About What’s Wrong
I used to think fear only showed up when something was wrong — when I was uncertain, unprepared, or out of my depth.
But over time, I recognized that fear can also show up when something is right.
Sometimes what unsettles us most isn’t our weakness — it’s our strength.
We talk a lot about facing the parts of ourselves we’d rather not see — the doubts, the habits, the insecurities.
But sometimes the part we resist isn’t hidden at all.
It’s the version of us that’s ready to lead, speak up, or take space — the part we’ve kept waiting in the wings.
The confident voice that speaks up.
The grounded presence that doesn’t apologize.
The version of us that no longer asks for permission to exist.
For someone who grew up afraid to be seen, that kind of power can feel foreign — even threatening.
What rattles us isn’t always what’s broken — sometimes it’s the part of us that’s finally strong enough to stand on its own.
When Identities Clash
We carry every version of ourselves inside — the child who learned to stay small, the teenager who tried to blend in or go big enough to hide their fear, and the adult who took charge but never quite felt in control.
Each one had a job to do.
Each one believed it was keeping us safe.
The problem is, they don’t always agree on what safety means.
You can be faced with a moment where confidence is needed, and the child inside still wants to run away or stay quiet.
You can feel proud of something, and the teen in you starts worrying about being “too much.”
You can make a strong decision, and that part of you that finally took charge suddenly doubts whether it’s allowed to.
It’s not that those parts are wrong — they just haven’t realized you’re all grown up now.
They’re still trying to protect you in the only ways they know how.
And that’s where the clash happens — between the self that’s trying to live and the selves that are still trying to survive.
Afraid of My Own Confidence
I lived in a constant tug-of-war between believing I could and feeling convinced I couldn’t.
Confidence felt both possible and impossible at the same time — not because I lacked skill, but because I didn’t trust myself to use the skills I had.
I had a hard time acknowledging that confident version of me because I was so used to not feeling confident.
When I became an EMT, our instructors warned us not to be overly confident — to ask for help when unsure.
Later, in graduate school, professors said almost the same thing: “Don’t get overconfident.”
I understood their point, but for me, it wasn’t a warning — it was already a way of life.
My EMT classmates once called me “Brainiac!”
I laughed it off, certain they were joking. But they were right — I graduated at the top of my class.
Even then, I couldn’t feel secure in what I knew. During our final exam, my instructor told my captain, “My best student is my most fearful.”
She was right.
I’d spent a lifetime being cautious to a fault — double-checking, second-guessing, hesitating to trust myself even when I knew the answers.
That pattern went back further than I realized — to learning math, to typing and shorthand in business school, even to riding horses as a teenager.
There was always a gap between what I could do and what I believed I could do.
I was good — genuinely skilled — but my mind couldn’t reconcile being good with feeling good about it.
I know it sounds strange to say I could when I was living “I can’t,” but that’s exactly how it felt.
The ability was there — I just couldn’t access it when I needed it most.
I wasn’t the cocky person living beyond her competence.
I was the competent one living just below her confidence.
Confidence wasn’t the problem. Trusting it was.
And what a relief it was the day I could look at myself and honestly say,
“I’m really good at what I do, who I am, and the life I’m living.”
That was the moment I realized confidence wasn’t something to chase or yearn for.
It was something I simply needed to allow — because it was who I was (and am) at my core.
Fear of the Fully Integrated Self
It’s important to remember that this isn’t about resisting success or sabotaging happiness.
It’s about the hesitation that comes when old neural wiring and new awareness meet.
The brain learned long ago that safety meant staying small — in whatever way we needed to:
Staying quiet.
Being agreeable or unseen.
Not living bigger than we were expected to be.
Those rules can come from the outside — or (more likely) they develop within our own brain.
Over time, those rules become wired in — shaping how we interpret safety, risk, and even confidence itself.
Now, stepping into confidence can still feel risky — not because anything is wrong, but because the nervous system hasn’t yet learned that safety can exist in self-belief.
That’s why change can feel so conflicting — one part of you is ready to move forward while another pulls you back.
The moment you start to feel powerful, capable, or certain, the older parts of you may still react like you’re crossing a line.
But that’s where true growth happens: when you teach those parts that confidence isn’t danger, it’s freedom.
And once that freedom starts to feel natural, the real integration begins.
Bringing the Parts Together
Growth isn’t about rejecting the old parts of you.
It’s about helping them see that the danger has passed — that they can relax while you take the lead.
When you reassure those inner versions that your confidence doesn’t erase them, it calms the resistance.
Integration feels less like becoming someone new and more like letting all of you exist in the same room without fear.
Getting Past Survivor
Getting Past Survivor means recognizing that fear isn’t always about what’s behind you — sometimes it’s about what’s possible ahead of you.
When who you are now feels too big for who you once had to be, that’s not a sign to shrink back.
It’s an invitation to introduce your past selves to your present strength — and let them see you’re finally safe being you.
Ready to Explore What’s Possible When You Trust Your Confidence?
If this resonates with you — if you’ve ever felt afraid of your own potential, or unsure how to bridge who you were with who you’ve become — I can help you reconnect those parts and rewire the patterns that keep you playing small.
💬 Reach out below and let’s talk about what trusting your confidence could look like for you.
💙 Helen
