Have you ever had to get back in the arena before you felt ready?

During my last three years at a publishing company where we produced alumni directories, I was the data consultant. It was a role I had really wanted, so when I was promoted into it, I was so excited. My role was to help the sales team get publishing contracts signed by helping the client’s data team feel comfortable with how the data would be handled and transferred between us.

Despite the skills I developed to get promoted, I was really nervous for my first sales call.

I was at my desk, on a conference call with the client's team and our account executive. By the end of the call, the client told us point blank they weren't signing. They were unsatisfied with the data portion. I was horrified. Humiliated. And scared. Not a great way to start in a new position.

Later that day I had to do another conference call with the same account executive, but a different client.

In between those two calls, I regrouped. I talked with the AE to figure out what I could have done better. I asked my mentor for a quick call to get a pep talk and guidance. All of these seemingly small decisions helped me to regain my footing, so I could do the second call.

On this call, I was still nervous, but I made the decision to view this call as a new start. I made the decision to believe in myself and apply what I had learned, and we signed that deal.

This same approach – regrouping, asking for input, viewing each call, each meeting as a new opportunity – were all micro decisions I’ve made over again to help me grow. And it’s because confidence comes after courage. You don't wait until you feel ready. You make the decision to show up anyway and the confidence comes from having done it. And just like with my clients, I believe this situation presented itself not to make me fail, but because I was ready.

It doesn't feel like playing small in the moment

Most people assume playing small is obvious when it's happening. That you'd know. But in my experience, both personally and with my clients, it usually doesn't feel like playing small in the moment. It feels like being careful. Being realistic. Being “smart” about what you take on.

Do any of these feel familiar?

Have you ever felt like if you speak up, take up space and allow yourself to be seen, you’re actually setting yourself up for failure? And because you might be scared how you’ll be received, you take steps that keep you safe and small.

Imagine going into a meeting room – do you choose to sit along the wall, and not at the table? Or perhaps in that meeting, you either don’t speak up “just in case” you haven’t formulated every last detail, or you do speak up, only to doubt what you said, even if it’s spot on?

As another example, have you ever hesitated to volunteer to do something because putting yourself out there would mean more visibility than what you’re used to? Or perhaps you thought about turning down a great project or opportunity because you didn’t feel you had all the skills, knowledge and abilities to do it well despite what the requestor thought?

Or this one, have you ever felt in your head about a situation, and in doing so, you spent more time “polishing the stone” and second guessing what you’re bringing to the table?

I get it because I have dealt with each one of these during my career. It’s when you’re moving to your next level, and the Quiet Critic is showing up because you’re leaving what’s known and familiar. And as you keep going, it will feel uncomfortable. You may even want to go back to where you were. Like stay along the wall, turn down the opportunity, or not share your ideas.

That discomfort isn't a signal to go back. It's showing you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

Every act of courage counts

We've been taught, or even conditioned, to wait until we feel confident before we act. Before speaking up in the meeting, raising our hand for the opportunity, or saying yes to the thing that scares us a little because it matters.

But that's not how it actually works.

Think about the last time you did something that required you to show up before you felt fully ready. Maybe it was a presentation to a group you'd never spoken to before. Maybe it was a conversation you'd been putting off. Maybe it was simply deciding to sit at the table instead of along the wall.

You probably weren't confident going in. But you went in anyway.

And after? Something shifted. Not because the fear disappeared, but because you did it even while fear was present. That was your courage leading the way, so your confidence would shine through because you showed up.

The Quiet Critic would have you believe it's the other way around. That you need to feel ready before you act. That you need to have every answer before you speak. That the discomfort means something is wrong.

It doesn't. It means something is right.

Confidence doesn't come first. Courage does.

Every time you choose to be seen as who you already are, even in the smallest, most seemingly ordinary moment, you're building the evidence your confidence needs to grow. Each courageous step forward is you owning what was always true. And the more you own it, your brilliant unique light stops being covered by the Quiet Critic and starts being seen.