I was always one for following the leader of the pack because I was addicted to strong friends.
I never saw myself as a leader, or a talker, but I loved to socialise. There was always a burning desire within me to be part of something; something bigger than myself, to follow, to lead, or to be a part of. It's why I always ended up in strongly lead male groups of friends; call it a click if you must. I'm sure we've all been in clicks at some point. If you examine your school life I'm sure you slotted neatly into some sort of niche-type-friend-circle.
The way I sought these goals was that I would seek out the strong male leader and befriend them; it was my protection racket for later. If I was ever physically threatened then I always knew the strong male lead would go out of his way to keep me safe, and that happened, lots and lots of times. It's how I was able to perhaps get away with more than I should have as a youngster; sporting the protection of a meat-head affords you certain privileges in the human-kingdom. There's also much better opportunities with women that wouldn't necessarily be available to me were I on my own; or getting away with saying things to people that would normally get me clobbered. They didn't out of fear of repercussions.
Attaching myself to a strong male lead had it's downfalls though, mostly because the people that I sought out were incredibly toxic and often outwardly controlling. I had certain exceptions with the outer world, but inwardly, in the pack, it wasn't wise to set a foot wrong or upset the leader. It was a small price to pay for someone that was far more confident than myself.
On that note I want to talk about misconceptions of confidence today, because that's exactly what I had. To me, confidence was the outward abrasiveness that struck fear into other people's hearts were they to challenge a person. It was the unwillingness to back down from a fight, it was the not willing to accept "no," for an answer, or to show any fear whatsoever. It was to put forth a pillar of strength and not show any weakness whatsoever. That, to me, was a confident person. I went through most of my life meeting these people. I went through life being muted by others on anything that wasn't the group normal or "different," and that's why I had to leave the group to seek my very own individual journey.
You see, I had confidence pegged all wrong. My Dad, who I thought was the most confident man I knew; who didn't have a problem telling people to fuck off; who threatened anyone that tried to assert their dominance over him, and was never caught out 'being wrong,' was just a big scared man looking for a hug inside, and someone to tell him that they loved him, and that everything would be okay. If I turned everything upside down and looked at him as a person, rather than his effects on me; then I'd see one of the most unconfident people I've ever met; desperately scared that anyone catch a glimpse of the person he actually was.
I went on such a personal journey over the next ten years which was to blast all my misconceptions out of the window and develop me into a person that I had never ever dreamed of becoming. One of the main things I learned was that a lot of people feign confidence through arrogance; their pillar of strength can be crumbled with their fear of being vulnerable.
See? Fear.
My Dad, and most of the other men that I knew in my life at the time were desperately scared to expose their insecurities, their fallacies, their imperfections. They hid all this with a big mask of bravado and through the untrained eye that can be displayed as an illusion of confidence. But it's not confidence. No way.
I was like those men myself; attaching to them so that they would make my fear go away, the crippling social anxiety I had was masked as I hid behind those seemingly strong men; an elaborate illusion to make me seem, and feel stronger than I actually was. Whilst these men clung on to me knowing full well that I daren't challenge their paper thin veil of bravado. Yet beyond it all, we were all just in seek of a hug and someone to love us.
I don't feel fear now, not in the way that I used to anyway. I can't even say that I feel the fear of dying. I only worry about the carnage that will be left in my wake. I'm not scared to stand up and admit that I'm imperfect; that I'm scarred, that there have been times in my past where I've tried to kill myself. I'm not even scared to tell you that I hate it when people don't like me, and that STILL makes me feel rather inadequate as a person. What I'm generally saying is that I'm not scared to show that I'm imperfect, I'm human, and that I'm flawed.
Part of being confident is also to question. When you question things and situations then you are admitting to yourself and other people that you don't have all the answers. Who does in all seriousness? I've been writing and working in the Mental Health sector for more than ten years now and I can swear to you I've only came across a tiny fraction of the situations out there in the world. To say that I have seen it all would be a disservice to those that are in need of help. So when I question, and ask, it's not because I'm weak, or that I'm a dummy, or that I'm stupid, or that I should find the answers for myself, it's because I want to know more and I'm interested to learn.
There's a real serenity to confidence, a peacefulness within. The ability to move with the waves of change and not be stuck in past events. I keep writing about how being trapped in the past can damage your future; why the world is always moving forward and if you're not moving with the tide then you're stagnating, not moving, being the same -- and no-one achieved anything just sitting there doing nothing, stewing over past events.
So to wrap it all up, confidence for me is the ability to stand your ground. It's the ability to strive for your goals and opinions and not bend to the will of the influence of other people. Yet, it's also the willingness to accept that if other people have a good point, then you have to take responsibility for your actions and take their considerations on board. It's the strength in knowing that you can be vulnerable, and that there's nothing wrong with such. It's also knowing that you are human, and even though you feel awesome at the time there are limitations to what you can do.
It is internal calm. It's peaceful.
It's also very lonely.