Confidence is a funny sort of quality. Demanding. Needy. Constantly requiring reassurance, prodding, encouragement.
If you let it, it can fail to thrive. Fail to grow. Fall terribly behind on the scale of what is essential to life.
And if you let them, other people can rip your confidence to shreds. Little by little. Over time.
It takes a strong person to gain it back. To choose to fight for themselves. Against the ones who want to tear them down.
For me, a person not born with confidence in her blood, I’ve had to learn it like a second language.
Maybe that’s normal. Maybe that’s what everyone undergoes and accumulates with age and all its marvels. Maybe confidence just sort of becomes a part of you like a well-worn hairstyle or a favorite sweater. But it’s a marvel in itself when you get to witness the style grow on you. The way it weaves into your being. The way it changes the way you do things. How it shapes the person you’re becoming.
The thing I find most captivating is what it’s done to my personality. To the amount that I worry and stress. To the heaviness that used to weigh on my shoulders.
Responsibility used to seem so much of a burden. Odious, is the word. But now…now I find myself enjoying where I’m going.
I’m realizing that the very thing I’ve feared all along–standing up for myself and fighting for me–is what is opening doors that otherwise remained shut. Doors I didn’t know existed. Doors that no one ever speaks of.
Once you find your voice, it seems, there is no longer a limit to what you’re capable of.
Maybe you can even ride a damn Luck Dragon.