“Where does she get all that unearned confidence?” I’ve said this frequently enough to forget who I was talking about.
Unearned confidence is an odd concept. Maybe I just should have said, “I’m jealous of her lack of cripplingly low self-esteem,” that probably would have gotten more to the point.
When I first started teaching, and for years after, I felt like a fraud sharing “wisdom” in my classes, I was 26 years old, and some students were over twice my age. Some had kids and even grandkids. Owned homes. Wore “real” clothes to “real” jobs. They had all this life experience that I didn’t and I had no business telling them anything.
In my Instagram bio, I wrote “teaching yoga for 14 years.” I anxiously await March, when I can change it to 15 years! That must mean something, right? It’s there because I want people to know I know shit. But then I ho and hum about what I should post in that space, because what if people don’t like it? (For the love of GOD, woman! What do you like? Post that!)
If 14 years of teaching wasn’t enough to silence my self-doubt, motherhood would do the trick. I was sure that when I became a mom something would shift. I would suddenly have the wisdom street cred I longed for and could tell people a thing or two. I’d be grounded. I wouldn’t be flailing around in someone’s grasp like a naked limp piece of spaghetti hoping to be told I’m perfectly cooked. And yet! Here I am. A slimy, nude noodle begging for approval.
Willa turned one, marking almost 4 years of motherhood. I’m not having any more kids, so uh, this is it. When is my earned confidence going to kick in? That’s how I know it’s bullshit. Because if some duration or some role was going to get it for me, I’d have it.
Last year, I saw an astrologist named Heidi Rose Robbins talking about how she creates titles for her years. I thought that was a fun idea, so I made one. Turns out, it was not a fun idea. It was a recipe for disaster. But am I going to do it again? Of course. I can’t fail and leave it at that. I’ll just incorporate my learnings, well, my one learning, which is to be SO much more specific. I am not giving the universe any ambiguity to work with. Clarity or bust. The title will be long, detailed, and perhaps should have a subtitle for good measure.
I called 2024 “The Year of Anything Can Happen,” and oh my God, it did. I should have known it wasn’t going to be what I intended during the NYE Day polar plunge. I ran into the ocean, giddy, 2-ish weeks postpartum with my friends by my side. We were getting up the courage to dive in and I yelled out my title to the heavens, but as the last syllable left my lips, I was pummeled by a wave and swept off my feet. In the washing machine cycle under the wave, I remember thinking, “Oh, shit. This isn’t good.” I came up surprised and disoriented but tried to make the most of the moment, pumped my fists, jumped up and down, and celebrated the dunk regardless of its bad omen energy.
For the last 7 years, I’ve been the video model for a very successful yoga app. In August, they “paused” filming with me, which is to say, “fired” me. I was also doing their social media, which meant most of my time and income were tied to them. Because of how the yoga videos are put together after I film, I had to be as close to perfect as humanly possible. If a hand was slightly out of place or a transition a half second to slow, it got sent back to me and I had to try again. In reality, I use my practice and my teaching as an antidote to what ails me. My low self-esteem, people pleasing, perfectionism, body issues, etc etc etc, so this work increasingly messed with my mind. When I’m honest about it, I didn’t want to do it anymore. I was constantly in pain and throwing my back out. I also didn’t have time to do my own practice anymore, nor the energy because of all the filming. The steady income was great, but the cost was high. I knew I needed to change something and lo and behold, it got changed for me.
Originally, “Anything Can Happen” felt filled with possibility and hope. Look at me, I thought, befriending the unknown. But when anything DID happen, it felt like the end of the world. Lindsey wrote me a card congratulating me on the launch of the LRY Membership. One line, in particular, has been filling me with some of the hope I was searching for at the beginning of this year. She wrote, “I know this is new and scary but look at what you’ve accomplished every time you hit a roadblock. Remember how scared you were after Open? You figured it out VERY quickly and leap-frogged forward. Nothing, no company, is holding you back.”
How could I have forgotten that? But I had. I had forgotten. When Open chose not to renew my contract because I wouldn’t move to LA, I also felt like the world had ended for my career. My ego was also extremely bruised, because how could they fire me? I was their first yoga teacher! there from the beginning! I was…fired. I needed to figure out how to replace a giant piece of my income fast. And Lindsey was right, I did.
My unearned low self-esteem is rumbling now. But that was because of the app, my fears retort. They gave me a raise. They gave me social media. They gave me all these things that helped me rebound. But the part of me that wants to be confident thinks this phrasing is a little wrong. Companies don’t give people things simply out of the kindness of their hearts. I had earned what I received. I had worked for this company for years, I deserved a raise for the high quality of consistent work I had returned. And I could do their socials because I know social media—at least to some degree. Why do I always place myself in the role of charity case instead of a woman who knows things and gets work because of said knowing? When is my goddamn earned confidence going to arrive!
I’m brought back to the anecdote that Melissa McCarthy shared on We Can Do Hard Things. She told her parents that she wasn’t going back to college and instead would be pursuing the lucrative career of stand-up comedy. I can imagine what my parents would have said to this, my announcement may have even gotten a big laugh, but hers went a different route. They said, “Why not you? Someone’s dreams have to come true, why not yours?” I was floored. Can you imagine? Imagine that kind of reception to your wildest dreams.
So, I sit here and I ask myself to first, imagine, what are my wildest dreams. And second, take them seriously. Don’t make a joke of your desires. In the podcast, Glennon said something to the effect of parents rejecting their kid’s aspirations first because they’re afraid the world will do it if they don’t. I suppose that’s what I do to myself, too.
I’m not quite sure what my title for the coming year will be. Maybe, “The Year of Uninterrupted Sky High Emotional and Financial Growth,” or “The Year Where Nothing Bad Happens, Not Even A Little Bad, Like A Broken Nail.” I’m still workshopping it, but that’s the gist so far.
Last January, I shared my NYE Day Polar Plunge Pummel on Instagram and went back at it to see what I had written. “But, what I want to ask you, dear internet friends, is that troubling? Should I be worried about the symbolism here??? Is this a bad omen for my year to come? Probably not, right? It’s probably fine. Smooth seas ahead! All good!” I sigh, Girl. But this is not about my delusional hope, it’s about the comments people made. A few of my favorites:
“the real symbol here is your reaction after being demolished by our friend, The Wave! anything can happen, it may be surprising and it may appear scary and distressing. but your reactions & your perspectives are what shape the experience”
“what do you mean? You popped right back up!”
“Nah that was great. You’re overthinking it. That was a submission to the Sea. And you popped up pumping fists of welcome …”
I suppose a title for my year won’t set a foolproof course for the perfect year. It won’t protect me from waves—or the ones I create myself. And maybe I’m not the kind of person who has bulletproof confidence (yet). But what I do have is a constant thread of proof that people are better than I remember in my worst moments. I have support, in my comments, cards, and conversations, that reminds me of what I’ve already done and how I’ve popped right back up when it felt impossible. I have people in my corner who ask me, “Why not you?” and I’m starting to believe they might be onto something.
LIVING ROOM YOGA MEMBERSHIP IS HERE!
Join me for our first LRY Revival! I don’t like the idea of a challenge; it sets off my defiance. So, I like to think of this as breathing life back into me and how I take care of myself and spend my time. I’d love for you to join me. I’ll release a new 8-minute meditation daily starting Jan 1 for two weeks, but feel free to take any practice, any length of time, and try your best to do something for yourself daily for 2 weeks straight. That’s it! If you make it the whole 2 weeks, let me know and I’ll give you a code to gift a friend LRY free for one month!
For my members, I’m currently working on switching the platform over to Uscreen, which will give us the experience we deserve! Things like the ability to have a free week trial, comment, favorite, and see classes in a more organized way. I’m excited for the switch!
Cheers to a better year ahead!! You are beloved, admired, and respected by our SF community. Big hugs! x Charlie