Confidence, for most of us, is not a steady flame. It’s a tea light in a drafty hallway.
You’re feeling good. But then something happens you weren’t prepared for. Or your inner critic begins chattering away. And you make the mistake of listening…
Poof. Confidence gone.
Your brain starts doing that thing where it narrates your life in real time: You’re standing weird. Your smile is too long. Why are you smiling like that? Stop smiling. Now you’re not smiling enough. Your face looks mean. Now you look terrified. You’re blinking like you’re lying.
At this point, confidence seems like an operating system update your body refuses to download because it’s busy running fifteen background apps called What If They Hate You?
This is what low confidence often looks like from the inside: not dramatic self-hatred, not theatrical despair, but a constant internal audit. You’re not simply living your life; you’re reviewing the footage.
And yet when someone else says they’re anxious, we do the most ironic thing possible: we tell them, “Just be confident.” As if confidence is a simple decision, like choosing salad.
So how do we increase confidence? Time to look at the research and see what really works.
Let’s get to it…
A lot of people spend a lot of time wondering how confidence functions. Irritatingly, psychology has been sitting there with the answer for decades: Albert Bandura’s self-efficacy theory.
The strongest source of confidence is what Bandura calls “mastery experiences”: accomplishing challenging but attainable tasks. Not thinking about them. Doing them. Nothing builds belief in yourself better than seeing your own success.
Lack of confidence is just your brain saying: “We do not have sufficient data to predict success, therefore we will treat this as danger.” Mastery experiences are how you provide the data. You don’t need more belief. You need more proof. Proof that you can do hard things.
And this is good news because it means confidence isn’t some rare personality gift. It’s something you can build over time, like a Lego Death Star or a lucrative OnlyFans account. You don’t have to transform overnight. You just have to create a steady drip of “I did it” moments until your brain goes, “Well, apparently we do hard things now,” and rewrites its internal story.
(To learn how Bandura’s work can help you overcome impostor syndrome, click here.)
That’s all fine and dandy, but it takes time. What helps increase confidence in the moment?
Here’s the thing nobody tells you about confidence: it’s not usually murdered by the outside world. The outside world is busy. The assassination is handled in-house by the voice in your head. You know the one:
“You’ll mess it up.”
“You’re not good enough.”
“Why even try?”
This is not a helpful voice. This is not “intuition.” And the craziest part? We treat it like it’s telling the truth. If an actual person followed you around all day whispering this stuff, you’d call security. You’d throw a chair.
But because it’s happening inside your skull, you go: “Ah yes, my thoughts. Surely these are facts. Surely my brain, the organ that can’t remember why I walked into the kitchen, has perfect judgment about my future.”
The heckler speaks in absolutes. It loves words like “always” and “never”, which it wields like linguistic napalm. My inner voice is so scathing it could cauterize wounds. It roasts me like I’m a low-tier celebrity at a Comedy Central taping.
Which brings us to cognitive restructuring, the least sexy name ever invented for something that can change your entire life. It’s part of Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy (CBT), that system for dealing with the fact that your thoughts are often full of it. In fact, a depressing number of them are sloppy approximations, emotional projections, and leftover survival instincts rummaging around in the wrong century.
So what do you need to do? First, wait for the inner critic to pop up. (If you’re like me, this will not take long.) Once you notice it jabbering don’t immediately accept what it says. Instead, challenge it like it’s trying to sell you a timeshare:
Is this thought accurate? Is it useful?
Specifically, if the inner critic says, “You always fail” respond with:
“Always?” Really?
If you “always fail,” then you have failed at every attempt to do anything. That would mean you failed to learn to walk, failed to learn to speak, failed to learn to use the toilet. So the thought can’t be literally true. Myth busted.
Now replace the thought with something honest and balanced. So “I always fail” becomes: “I’ve failed sometimes. I’ve also succeeded sometimes. This is one attempt, not a verdict on my identity.” With time, this new response will replace the old.
Cognitive restructuring is a strange process, like flossing your thoughts. But, with time, it works. You’re not spraying your brain with unjustified positivity. You’re dragging it toward reality by the scruff of the neck.
(To learn more about how to use CBT to be less anxious, click here.)
Okay, we’ve cleared your head a bit. But confidence doesn’t just reside in your skull…
Confidence is also in your lungs. Your legs. Your sleep quality. Your blood sugar. The fact that you haven’t seen daylight since the last time someone said, “New season just dropped.”
The link between exercise and confidence is well established. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? Like Bandura said, confidence is partly your brain making a prediction: “Can I handle this?” And your body’s condition is part of the evidence your brain uses to answer that question. It doesn’t go, “Ah yes, I am simply out of shape and sleep deprived.” No, it goes, “WE ARE WEAK. WE ARE HUNTABLE. PREPARE THE PANIC.”
Your brain is an unreliable narrator stapled to an animal. When the animal is tired and sedentary, your narrator becomes a catastrophist. If you want confidence, maintain the conditions that make it plausible. Are you someone who gets winded opening the mail? Does your heart rate only spike when you realize you’ve left your phone in the kitchen?
You don’t have to become a gym monk. You just have to stop living as if your body is an inconvenient accessory to your mind. “But I don’t have time to exercise.” If you don’t take care of your body, you’ve got even less time than you think.
(To learn how to motivate yourself to exercise, click here.)
But does confidence come from sources outside your body entirely? Yup…
Confidence doesn’t solely come from within. Confidence comes from the social world cooperating with your self-image. This dependency isn’t weakness; it’s how we’re built. Our nervous systems didn’t evolve for solitary self-actualization. They evolved in groups. We are wired to learn from others, to take cues from others, to regulate through others.
Bandura says there are two main social pathways to confidence:
So ask for reality checks when you’re spiraling. Encouragement from someone you respect can feel like a supernatural intervention. When a mentor or friend says, “You can handle this,” suddenly the internal heckler is muted. The funny part is how little it takes. Sometimes it’s a single sentence. “You’ve improved.” “I’ve seen you do harder things.” And the legendary “I believe in you.”
Role models work best when they’re relatable. Watching a flawless prodigy can actually make success feel more remote. As if it’s a phenomenon you admire but could never participate in, like a solar eclipse or the ability to enjoy networking.
But you’ll get a confidence boost from seeing someone similar to you overcome a relevant challenge. That’s when the thought appears: “If they can do it, maybe I can too.” That thought is not optimism. It’s permission. It’s the first crack in the wall of “People like me can’t do that.”
(To learn how to make emotionally intelligent friendships, click here.)
Now it’s time for the one you’ve been waiting for: how can we boost confidence easily and immediately?
Where does quick confidence come from? According to research it comes from a thundering chorus so aggressive it feels like it’s trying to sell you a pickup truck made of pure testosterone.
You know this. You’ve felt it. You just don’t use it deliberately as often as you should.
Feeling down? Music doesn’t care. Music barges in, kicks the door off its hinges, and shouts: “WE ARE DOING THIS NOW.” Your nervous system goes from “threat” to “challenge.” It’s auditory caffeine.
Athletes wear headphones before an event because they know the human brain is a gullible sack of electricity. They’re trying to control their emotional state before stepping into something intense. And we can do the same. You’re not lacking confidence; it’s just behind a locked door that only opens to a sick beat.
The key thing to remember? You don’t want to be dependent on the music; you want to use it as training wheels. Use it to start moving, to complete something challenging. To forge a Bandura mastery experience. And that’s where confidence will come from next time. Not the bass. The evidence.
(To learn what the music you love says about you, click here.)
Okay, we’ve covered a lot. Let’s round it up and learn what’s worse than low confidence. And how we can beat that too…
Here’s how to increase confidence:
You can avoid embarrassment by never speaking. You can avoid rejection by never asking. You can avoid failure by never trying.
And the tragedy is that none of those things will guarantee safety.
So the question becomes: if discomfort is inevitable, what are you saving yourself for? The only kind of confidence that really matters is the kind that helps you participate. Not the swaggering, “I’m amazing” confidence, but the quieter, “I can handle this” confidence.
Embarrassment has a short half-life. So does rejection. Even failure rarely ends you. This is the part I wish someone had told me when I was younger: the fear of humiliation is almost always worse than humiliation itself. Humiliation, when it happens, is usually brief.
But the fear of it can last for years. The fear of it can shape your life.
I regularly send an email to hundreds of thousands of people. People have told me this must require confidence. My response is always, “Honestly, I don’t even think about it.” If I did, I’d probably be terrified. But to me what I’m doing here matters more than embarrassment.
When you’re unconfident, you walk into every room asking, “Who am I to them?” When you’re confident you walk into a room asking, “What am I here to do?” Confidence is what happens when you stop using other people as the scoreboard for your identity. That doesn’t mean you don’t care what anyone thinks. You’re not a toddler or a billionaire. You’ll always care. Caring is human. The goal is to care without submitting.
Confidence, at its best, is a promise to yourself: I will not let fear be the author of my life. Confident people feel fear and proceed anyway, like someone carrying too many grocery bags who refuses to make two trips out of pure, irrational principle.
Proceed, therefore, with your valuable, ridiculous life. Attempt the thing. Speak the sentence. Ask for what you need. If you must be embarrassed, be embarrassed in motion.
Here’s the part that will make you defensive, which is how you’ll know it’s accurate: if you’re waiting for a version of you who never hesitates, never blushes, never gets weird… well, my condolences. That person doesn’t exist. But there is a version of you who hesitates and blushes and gets weird… and still goes ahead anyway.
That person is available right now.
The confidence you’re waiting to feel is on the other side of the thing you’re afraid of.