Are you visibly confident?
David Carmi is a guy who interviews people on the streets of New York, asking why they look so confident.
At first, I found those videos fascinating. Then a bit boring. Eventually, even annoying. And finally, I asked myself a curious question: if he walked past me in this small town where I live (very unlikely), would he see me as someone confident?
The real question is: am I confident?
It depends.
The waves
In my therapy sessions, I rarely stay quiet. I talk a lot. And I can’t help checking the time, knowing I don’t have all the time in the world to say everything.
Lately, I’ve been quieter. When my therapist asked how it felt to revisit a certain experience, I said, “Well, I thought I was over it.” But I get the impression that experiences like that —many of them— come back again and again throughout life. Maybe it’s like the waves of the sea — of the ocean, to be precise.
They move back and forth constantly. You think you’re done with them, but they return. And return. And return.
What does it really mean to “get over” something? To forget? To ignore it? To feel nothing when remembering? Or to feel the same? Or to discover emotions I hadn’t identified before?
The last time I returned to Bucharest, I noticed more yellow leaves on my pothos. It made me a little sad — until I looked outside and saw the autumn trees. Ah, so it wasn’t my fault. It was just nature.
I don’t know if it helps them more than it helps me, but I do talk to my plants. I tell them nice things like, “I’m glad you’re growing,” or “I’ll change your water now, don’t get sad.”
Encounters and mirrors
Recently I met again with a friend I hadn’t seen in many years. I was surprised he’d returned to Romania.
His health and a business project were his main reasons. And during that conversation, we ran into another acquaintance of mine. It was like remembering what it feels like to socialize in the city.
That second friend will soon graduate in psychology. After a life experience similar to mine, he’s found a new purpose and passion for helping others.
We laughed a lot, because that last encounter of the night somehow validated everything we’d been talking about since dinner began.
I also decided not to steal the lovely plant next to me in the restaurant, brushing gently against my arm.
The calm
There are days when I feel confident — and others when I don’t.
Sometimes I think I’m good at what I do — and sometimes I don’t.
Sometimes I think I look good — and sometimes I don’t.
Sometimes I think I’ve overcome certain life experiences — and sometimes I haven’t.
Sometimes I feel certain about the future — and sometimes I don’t.
I think that confidence in myself is like ocean waves: it comes and goes. Or like the seasons — an endless cycle. Spring will come again, just a little later.
I also think confidence isn’t always a necessary condition for making decisions. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s not. And knowing when it is and when it isn’t — I’d call that discernment.
I once heard someone say that taking certain leaps in life, the kind that bring big rewards, basically means getting used to feeling like an idiot.
So today, I actually feel confident — confident in the decisions that have made me feel like a complete idiot.
But I’m glad I can sit here and tell you about them. Sometimes with a bit of nostalgia, sometimes with a smile.
Today I don’t know if I look confident. But I’m still here. And that, maybe, is confidence too.
Thank you for reading.
Ave Migratoria 