I sometimes wonder if confidence is something that people pretend exists.  Is anyone really consistently confident?  Does any type or amount of success actually lead to confidence? Perhaps we can convince ourselves that we are confident for a moment or two before the doubts invade and the illusion is destroyed.  And yet, I can think of some people who truly believe they are confident, even over-confident.  Do they not know that they aren’t as good as they think they are?  You see, as soon as I reach a plateau and look back at what I’ve done and say, “Wow! Look what I did!  I must be good!,” then I turn around and look at what’s in front of me and see the next mountain that I need to climb and say, “Oh fudge!”

I guess some people just give up.  Maybe they spend the rest of their lives saying, “Look what I did. I was great!”  But I keep seeking the next moment, when the next achievement might hold the key to the lasting confidence that I seek.  Maybe it comes from something deep in my childhood?  Maybe it comes from my chemical make-up?  Maybe it comes from living in a world where nothing is valued anymore because everything is disposable and replaceable and there is always someone trying to do something just a little bit better than it’s been done before?  I just don’t believe that confidence is something I will ever get to enjoy and yet I keep hoping that just maybe, the confidence will come and stay. I am hopelessly an imperfect perfectionist who never stops seeking perfection.  But I keep moving forward, climbing, trying to reach the unattainable.  When you have a passion for something, as I do for my writing, it doesn’t matter if you have the confidence or not, you cannot stop because it may be there . . . just in front of you.  Just one more climb and then maybe I can rest.   Author of The Tin Box Trilogy

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