It’s our final year at university, and we’re about to present our final-year project ideas in front of our tutor and the entire cohort.
I am confident in my idea. I spent last year as an intern in the industry and now I’ve got wealth of practical knowledge which is key when it comes to implementing the actual product.
Yes, I am confident in my idea, but not in presenting it in front of everyone.
Since I was 15, I’ve struggled with intense anxiety, and speaking in front of others has always felt like my greatest enemy. I’m terrified of meeting new people, I avoid the spotlight at all costs, and presenting on stage is my worst nightmare.
But now, there’s nowhere to hide. Every single one of us has to speak.
Suddenly, I remember something I once read — the longer you put off what you need to do, the more your anxiety grows. And so, I decide to go first.
The sooner, the better. – I tell myself.
I should warn you—I have a habit of putting blind trust in books. Whatever I read, I test. And right now, I’m about to try something that pushes me far beyond my comfort zone.
So, without giving it a second thought, I raise my hand. I’m the only one who does. The tutor notices right away and calls me to the front.
I slowly walk up to him, my mind buzzing – I can do this, I know I can do this.
As I step onto the stage and turn to face the room, everything shifts. At least 30 pairs of eyes lock onto me, and for a moment, time freezes. I know I’m supposed to speak, but my lips refuse to move. They stay tightly shut, as if sealed by fear. After a few seconds that feel like hours, I manage to pull myself together and begin speaking—though I have no idea what I’m actually saying. I become hyper-aware of my arms, which are flailing awkwardly, completely out of sync with my words. The eyes in the room drift from my face to my hands, puzzled and unsure. When I glance at my tutor, I can see it clearly on his face: pity.
……
It happened 12 years ago, but for a long time, it felt like it had just happened—one of the most painfully embarrassing moments of my life. For years, the mere memory of it made me shudder with discomfort. For years, only with the thought of that scene, I felt the overwhelming anxiety I felt on that very same day.
Now, though, all I feel for that younger version of me is love. I wish I could go back and wrap her in the gentlest embrace, whispering: It’s okay. It really is. You did your absolute best, and that’s something to be proud of. No one is judging you—they’re too busy managing their own fears. And you? You were incredibly brave for standing up there. Well done, my love. Truly, well done.
How did everything change for me?
How did I go from deeply insecure to confident in just a few years?
The answer is simple, yet powerful: mindfulness.
Mindfulness helped me see myself clearly—not through the lens of fear or self-judgment, but with compassion and honesty. It taught me to pause, to observe my thoughts without immediately believing them, and to separate who I truly am from the stories I had been telling myself for years.
Through regular practice, I began to build awareness of my inner world. I noticed my triggers, my patterns, my limiting beliefs. And with each insight, I gently started to let go of the false identities I had clung to for so long.
Bit by bit, I began to trust myself again.
And confidence? It didn’t come from pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
It came from learning to be fully present—with myself, with others, with life.
That’s the real transformation.
So if you’ve ever felt like you’re not good enough, like your anxiety is holding you back, or like you’ll never be confident—please know this: change is possible. You don’t have to force it or fake it. Just begin by becoming present. Mindfulness isn’t about fixing yourself—it’s about finally meeting yourself. And when you do, you’ll realise you’ve always had everything you need within you.
Confidence isn’t something you chase.
It’s something you uncover—one mindful moment at a time.