If you meet me today, you'll probably say,

"Ah-ah! This girl is confident o."

I know.

I worked very hard for that review.

Because if you had met younger me, you would be stunned.

I was that child that would hide behind walls whenever visitors came.

I watched people who carried themselves like they belonged everywhere.

I admired them from a distance, convinced confidence was something people were born with like dimples or the birthmarks behind my legs.

They knew how to talk without rehearsing the conversation seventeen times.

They knew how to laugh without wondering if they were laughing too much.

Me?

I'd think about saying "good morning" until it was almost afternoon.

Then life happened.

It stopped asking whether I was ready.

Leadership didn't care that I hated introducing myself. 

Opportunities didn't wait for me to feel qualified.

Rooms kept opening, and eventually I realized they would close again if I never walked through them.

So I built someone.

I taught my voice to stop trembling before my hands did.

I learned to make eye contact even when my thoughts were staring at the floor.

I answered questions before fear cut my words short.

And people believed this version of me.

They started saying things like,

"She's outspoken."

"This girl can talk to anybody."

"She's so bold."

If only they knew.

Sometimes after sounding intelligent in a conversation, I'll get home and remember one weird sentence I said.

Don't get me wrong

I'm beyond better now but if you think the old me disappeared,

She's still very much around.

Only now, we've reached an agreement.

She can panic,

But she can't drive.

She can complain,

But she doesn't get to make decisions anymore.

So every time we enter a room together, she whispers,

"What if we are not as good as we think?"

And I whisper back,

"We'll survive."

Then we enter anyway.

Maybe that's what confidence really is.

Not that your knees stop shaking.

You just simply learn to walk with the shaking.

So yes,

The person I pretend to be has introduced me to people I never thought I'd meet.

She's stood on stages I never imagined I'd climb.

She's said yes to opportunities that younger me would have rejected before they even finished asking.

And every now and then, when she does something brave,

The little girl hiding behind the wall peeps out and says,

"Wait... did I do that?"

And the person I pretend to be?

She didn't replace that timid child, she simply became brave enough to carry her.