I used to be full of it.

Confidence.

I loved myself and was happy with who I was, what my life was like and so on. Nothing could shake me. I stood my ground, in my heels, never apologizing for what I said, what I wore, what I did.

I was confident, proud, strong.

I’m not this way now. My ground has loosened, I’ve been shaken to a point where anxiety reigns supreme. Some days, I find a reserve to pull from, but other times I have to fake it. Then I wonder if everyone thinks I’m phony. I never used to care what people thought about me. Perhaps that is the main difference; caring what others think will often leave you wondering about potential criticisms instead of building yourself up.

I believe people pick up on this attitude. Like desperation, it has a smell, and can be detected. People are afraid of it, of catching it per se.

I have to find a way to instill the confidence I’m lacking; to hold my head up high and forgive myself my flaws. To appreciate who I am right now, where I am, what I’m doing while moving forward. I need to realize that who I was is only part of the puzzle. I may never be that confident and comfortable again, and that’s OK.

I need to stop apologizing. I need to speak up. I need to let go.

I need to just be me, and be happy with that.