Your Confidence Wavers—Even When You Know Your Stuff

It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it?

You walk into the meeting knowing your material cold.
You’ve triple-checked the data, rehearsed the pitch, prepared the backup plan.
You’ve done the job. You’ve done more than the job.
And yet—when it’s time to speak, something inside you hesitates.

You feel it in the pit of your stomach.
The self-doubt creeps in before you even open your mouth.
You start reviewing every word before you say it—questioning tone, phrasing, whether you’re coming off too strong… or not strong enough.

And this isn’t just nerves.
This is something deeper.

• This is what happens when you’ve spent a career in spaces where you’ve had to prove your worth twice—once to yourself, and once to everyone else in the room.

• Where you’ve seen your ideas passed over—until a male colleague said the exact same thing.

• Where you’ve been applauded for being “detail-oriented” but overlooked for leadership roles.

You know your stuff.

But you’ve also been taught—explicitly or not—that confidence must be earned, that visibility is risky, and that competence doesn’t always guarantee credibility.

If you’ve ever been told:

• “You just need to be more confident.”

• “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

• “Speak with more authority.”

You already know how unhelpful that can be.

What they don’t see is the internal balancing act you’ve been doing your whole career:
Being assertive, but not too assertive.
Being prepared, but not a perfectionist.
Being a team player, but still standing out.
Being likable and being taken seriously.

No wonder your confidence wavers.
It’s exhausting.

But here’s the shift I want to offer you:
You don’t need to wait until you feel confident to take action.
Because confidence is not a prerequisite for leadership—it’s a result of leading.

Every time you speak up, even with a shaky voice—
Every time you make a decision, even with some doubt—
Every time you back yourself, even when others don’t—

You build real, grounded, earned confidence.
Not the loud, shallow kind that fades under pressure.
But the kind that can hold its own in any room.

Because here’s what I know about women like you:

You don’t waver because you’re weak.
You waver because you’re aware.
Because you’re reading the room.
Because you’re navigating a system that wasn’t built for you.

And yet—you keep showing up.
You keep learning, contributing, leading.
That is not a lack of confidence.
That is courage.

Beyond the cockpit, this is what leadership really looks like.

Not flawless. Not loud.
But honest, deliberate, and unshakably rooted in who you are.