On Confidence

(before I begin, a caveat: these posts will not appear in their final order.)

Dear John,

I have a confession.

I am not nearly as confident as I make myself out to be.

Oh, sure, I can meet personally with the vice president of the company. I routinely assert myself in presentations in front of directors, and I can convince them that what I want is right. I can command the attention of a roomful of people with grace, and I can maintain it with humor. (Boy I sound full of myself; if I hadn't had all these things said to me, I wouldn't believe them.)

I still get nervous. I've always gotten nervous. I'm not entirely sure that having confidence means you don't get nervous.

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.” - Ambrose Redmoon

When I was in college, I took acting. I had always thought that I would be good at acting, and I'm not even entirely sure why, but that's neither here nor there. A few of my friends were in the class with me, so I sure I could do it. And stupid me, I even thought I was good at it.

One of the perils of confidence is that being OVERLY confident is just as bad as being UNDERLY confident.

I got a C in acting. Me, an A student all through grade school and mostly an A/B student in college – and stupid me, I took a different class as pass/fail and got an A in it, that same semester!! I just couldn't get up in front of the class without smiling. For the record, smiling is BAD when you're on the stage. It's not good to look happy in a dramatic scene, obviously; but it also kind of blows the mood when you're doing a comedy and you're grinning into the punchlines. One of my friends finally made me use Listerine before our scenes, which numbed my cheeks enough that I couldn't smile through them. Amazingly enough, it worked (although now when I use Listerine I get accused of being miserable).

Behind the smile, though, I was terrified. Every time I'd ever spoken even remotely publicly, I knew the vast majority of the people I was speaking to. Hell, I knew just about everyone in our grade school, from kindergarten all the way up through 8^th grade, and I had all the way through. That's how it goes when the classes are under 90 people per grade (and usually under 70). But here, in this class... I'd never met some of my classmates until this class started, and I still didn't know who a few of them were. I was scared of failing so publicly, so I hid behind my smile. It had worked growing up, meeting and dealing with all kinds of people on the farm – I could always win people over if I smiled, so, I did. The problem with acting is that you can't exactly hide when you're on stage, even if it's only in front of 10 people for a class.

The peril in this, though, is that I was focusing so much on what everyone thought of me that I couldn't actually show them what I was capable of. This meant that I wasn't actually learning anything, which meant I couldn't improve. I got a little better after the Listerine trick, because I started at least focusing on my partner and trying to respond to her. So... at least I got a C in the class, instead of completely failing.

It took me a long time to figure out that I'd been hiding behind my own face. Unfortunately, pride alone will on get you so far. I learned that the hard way, especially given that I really thought I had something, before I took the class at least. Part of the requirement for acting class was to try out for every play that ran during the semester. There were a couple of roles I really thought I'd be perfect for, so I gave it everything I had. Or so I thought, since I didn't get the roles. The most success I ever had in the theater department was screwing around in the set department enough to wind up on crew for a couple of shows, painting tables or touching up the theater floor. I discovered that being behind the scenes was a lot more fun, honestly.

It's funny, because at the same time that all of this was going on, I was also involved in two different role-playing games that resulted in me running around campus, occasionally in various costumes and carrying various props, on my way to that week's chosen gaming spot. There, I would pretend to be either a ranger (for a D&D game), or a vampire aristocrat (first) or a punk vampire (later) (for live-action Vampire: the Masquerade(tm)). There's nothing quite as entertaining as scaring the crap out of people by wearing a cape in late spring, or carrying a (prop) sword into the cafeteria.

A lot of people would ask, why on earth was I willing to do all of these crazy things? People would stare, or laugh, or comment about us. But you know what? We had a GREAT time, doing something we really loved. We had the chance to be someone else for a few hours, to create stories and use our brains in the collaborative, creative ways we so rarely did otherwise. It felt good, being out with my friends, just doing my thing and being myself (so to speak). It felt good because I was doing something I wanted to do, for the sheer joy of doing it. I even made friends because of it, at my own school and at another school we visited for a big gathering.

Sure, I got mocked. Often. Geek, loser, lame-o, freak – you name it. Did I like it? Um, no. Did I care? Not really. I mean, sure, when I heard it, at first, it hurt. But I learned to ignore it, because I had so much fun with my friends that I didn't care what everyone else thought. I knew I was doing the right thing for me, regardless of anything else.

Man, I wish that confidence stuck with me all the time.

Truth? I still worry about what other people think of me. I suspect I always will – it's in my nature to want to please people, which is kind of hard to do when they don't like you. However, I'm starting to learn that the people who don't like me aren't going to like me no matter what I do, so I don't need to bend over backwards for them. Conversely, the people who do care about me aren't likely to go running off because I had a bad day. So you know what? It's perfectly OK to just do your thing, if you know it's the right thing for you to be doing.

Love,

JRM

The Dear John Letters: an Introduction

Dear John,

Ever since you were born, I've wanted to tell you your story.

I want you to know how you came to be. I want you to know all of the circumstances around your birth – the good and the not-so-good. I want you to understand that giving you up, even to my parents, was not a decision I made lightly, and that as soon as I saw you, my own heart was completed and broken in the same instant.

I've wanted to tell you all of this for the past 13 years, but I couldn't find the words. So I waited.

As you've grown up, I've watched you go through many of the same trials and tribulations I went through. Sometimes, you've made the same decisions I did. Sometimes, you've paved your own way. In all cases, I wanted to be there for you, but I so rarely could be.

I've realized along the way that there have been a lot of times where I would have liked to have shared my own stories. Sometimes, I would have liked to have been able to point you in the right direction. Sometimes, I would have liked to have been able to to point you away from the wrong direction. And sometimes, I would have liked to have simply shared my experiences with you. I like to think that I might be able to relate to some of the things you have experienced, or the things you will experience. If I'm really lucky, maybe I can even give you some insights into your own life.

What I will tell you is that I'm deeply sorry that I haven't been as active a participant in your life as I've wanted to be. I'm sorry that I've missed so much of your life. I do love you, and I want to help you be the person that I also aspire to be.

They say that a wise man learns through the mistakes of others. Here I've collected my thoughts on a number of the qualities that define a person, and how I've come to terms with those qualities in myself (for better or for worse). Truth be told, I don't have a lot of experience with some of these, but I'll do my best.

At this point, you're probably wondering why I'm writing this instead of just talking to you. The reason is that I want you to be able to look back at this when you feel you need to. As you grow up, you'll go through phases. When I was 13, I knew EVERYTHING there was to know. Hell, I was going to college! Of course I knew how the world worked! When I was 17, I had it all figured out. I didn't need anyone; I could handle being pregnant on my own, and I would get a handle on my future as it happened. When I was 21, looking for my first job as my grad school money ran out, I got scared, and I started to wonder if I had as much figured out as I thought I did. Now, at 31, I know that it's not about knowing everything. It's about learning what you can, being honest about what you don't know, and always being ready to learn more. There are some times, though, when faking it gets you by for long enough that you learn what you needed to know.

I'm sure that part of it is simply that I want you to know me. So I'm sharing my story with you, including the story of you. It is my hope that by knowing me, you might learn a bit about yourself. It is also my hope that by knowing me, if you find yourself in need, you'll know that you can always come to me.

I don't know how much of this will make sense to you now, and that's the other reason why I'm writing this. I don't want to shelter you, and I certainly don't want you to not try something; I want you to experience everything there is in life. I want you to travel, to love, to laugh, to cry, to fear, to strive, to fail, and to achieve. I'm telling you these stories so that you can recognize similarities in your own life. Believe me, you'll make mistakes in your own life, no matter what . No one is perfect – our failures make us who we are as much as our achievements do. The trick is to learn from your mistakes, and I hope that by sharing my own stories, you'll gain a little more insight that you can use in your own way.

Every person is different. Every experience makes us who we are, and no two experiences are the same. I don't expect your life to turn out the same way mine has – in fact, I hope it doesn't. Have your own experiences. Make your own mistakes – often! I just want you to live your life knowing that everything you do makes you who you are, and that finding yourself may be as simple as reflecting on where you've already been.

I love you, my son.

--JRM