There I was, in my kitchen, trying a new recipe for no good reason—on a night we were headed to a friend’s house. Who does that?
To be honest, I do—often.
A friend once told me she’s surprised I have the confidence to try new recipes. The truth is, she knows I try new things partly because she likes everything I cook. I’m not always that confident. She also knows I sometimes feel vulnerable when I cook—because of how I grew up.
So, I decided—quite last minute—that the only reasonable option was to make chickpea burgers for the first time. We live across the street from a perfectly good grocery store, and yet, there I was, elbows-deep in chickpeas with only a short window before we had to leave.
The recipe? Easy enough.
The flavor? Surprisingly good.
The appearance? Well… “awful” might be generous.
I turned to my husband and said, “I think I need to run to the store. I can’t bring something that looks this bad.”
But just as I was reaching for my keys, I caught myself.
I spend my days encouraging people to lead with confidence—to not let insecurity run the show—and here I was, about to let my own self-doubt call the shots.
So I paused.
And I made a decision: I would bring the chickpea burgers—and I would behave with confidence, even though I didn’t fully feel it.
I plated them with fresh vegetables and hummus on a pretty platter, brought them to the party, and when we arrived, I said warmly:
“You’re my guinea pigs! I tried a new recipe—I think it tastes great, but the looks could use some work. I’d love to hear if you think it’s worth a second try.”
That was it. I put them down, the evening went on, and by the time we left—nothing was left on the plate.
What a shame it would have been to leave them at home out of insecurity.
The Chickpea Lesson
What am I describing? Three related truths:
1. Behaving with confidence is a gift you give others.
When I introduced the food with calm honesty, my friends didn’t feel the need to protect my feelings or hand out empty praise. They could just taste, respond, enjoy.
2. Behaving with insecurity can be a burden you place on others.
If I had walked in saying, “I’m so embarrassed, these are hideous, I’m a mess for even trying this,” it might’ve put my friends in a tough spot. They’d have felt the need to comfort me instead of simply enjoying the evening.
3. Insecurity can lead to withholding.
I almost didn’t bring those appetizers. Had I given in to anxiety, no one would’ve enjoyed them—not even me.
The Banoffee Pie Incident (Not everything in my world revolves around food… but these examples do.)
A few years ago, I brought my then-signature Banoffee pie—a British dessert with bananas, caramel, and whipped cream—to a dinner party.
Important fact about me: I have a thing about someone finding a hair in my food. I usually go full hazmat—hair tied up, shower cap, maybe even a chef’s hat. Not a cute look.
But on that night? IT happened.
Someone found a hair. Not discreetly either—he lifted it up like he’d just found the prize inside a King Cake.
I. Was. Mortified.
In that moment, my inner critic was ready with a full monologue. But instead of spiraling, I took a breath and tried to use the humor I often guide clients to lean on. I blurted out:
“How lucky are you? You got the hair?!”
People laughed. My hostess—who knew I was dying inside—let out a breath. And the evening carried on. No one had to babysit my feelings. We got to laugh and move forward.
Did I feel confident? Not really.
But I behaved with confidence.
And that made the difference.
Insecurity vs. Vulnerability
This distinction matters:
– Insecurity says: “I need you to make me feel okay.”
– Vulnerability says: “Here’s where I feel tender, but I’m still showing up.”
– Confidence says: “You are safe with me. You don’t need to tiptoe around me.”
Confidence and vulnerability build connection.
Insecurity, when unchecked, can drain energy from a room or workplace.
Coaching the Confidence Choice
Recently, I was coaching a client—smart, capable, deeply talented—who struggled with insecure behaviors. She over-apologized, second-guessed herself, and filtered her thoughts too much. It was costing her—not just emotionally, but professionally. She was withholding ideas and missing growth opportunities.
I told her what I’ll tell you:
Confidence is not always a feeling. Sometimes it’s a decision.
A way of behaving, even when you’re not feeling it.
When you choose to behave with confidence—even when your stomach is doing backflips—you give others the freedom to respond honestly. You remove the emotional toll of managing your feelings.
That doesn’t mean they’ll be unkind. In fact, people tend to be more generous when they don’t have to tiptoe.
When Insecurity Becomes a Burden
Imagine you’re hosting a party. A friend promised to come early to help.
They show up late and say:
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I can’t get it together. I went to the bank, then got stuck in traffic, and now I’m just a useless mess. You probably hate me.”
Now, you might have to stop what you’re doing to make them feel okay.
If, instead, they had walked in and said:
“I’m late—again. Roast me later. I’m sorry, no excuse. Tell me how I can help.”
You can laugh. You can move on.
It’s a powerful shift:
From “take care of me” to “I’ve got me.”
Vulnerability Creates Space
Back to my client: She had deep wounds from bullying, shame, and fears of being unlikable. These experiences shaped her behavior.
Naming that vulnerability out loud? That was brave.
Once we acknowledged it, we could work on behavior—not with shame, but with intention.
Ultimately, our actions speak louder than our insecurities.
And the more we practice showing up with confidence, the more we actually feel it over time.
Making the Choice
Sometimes we have to prepare ourselves to make the confident choice. A story can help.
When our son Spencer was little, he played baseball. One season, he crushed it at practice but struck out during games. We weren’t pushy parents, but we didn’t want him to feel defeated either or for his heart to hurt.
When we asked what was going on, he said:
“I’m afraid I’ll disappoint my teammates if I strike out.”
Which, of course, made him strike out more.
We asked if he got mad when his teammates struck out.
He said, “No.”
That helped ease the pressure.
We also reminded him that no matter what, when he came home—hit or no hit—our dog Pixie would be there, wagging her tail.
We asked him: “When you’re up at bat, can you think of Pixie? She loves you no matter what.”
That little mental shift changed his season.
I use the same trick myself.
Normally, I don’t get performance anxiety when I present or facilitate. But one time, I was riddled with nerves—despite knowing the client, knowing the content and being prepared.
So I told myself a story:
I have the luxury of being anxious.
What’s the worst-case scenario? The session bombs and I don’t get rehired. That’s bad—but it doesn’t touch my health, my family, or my home.
And I realized: If something truly awful were happening, I’d wish all I had to worry about was bombing a team-building event.
It worked. The session went better than I expected.
I was still nervous—but I was grateful for the chance to be.
What Is Confident Behavior?
Let me be clear: Confidence is not ego. It’s not arrogance.
Often, ego and bravado show up because someone is feeling insecure.
Think about it:
When you’re truly grounded, do you feel the need to belittle others?
Exactly.
Final Takeaways
– Confidence is a gift you give others. It makes interactions easier.
– Unchecked insecurity can be a burden. It invites others to manage your emotions.
– You don’t have to feel confident to act confidently.
– Confident behavior is not hubris. It’s grounded, not performative. In fact, hubris is often insecurity in disguise.
So the next time you’re tempted to apologize unnecessarily…
or hide your work…
Ask yourself:
What would it look like to choose confidence here—not for me, but for the people around me?
You may find that the gift you give…
comes back tenfold.