How do i build confidence when i'm scared to try?

I was hiding in the hallway outside a karaoke bar, scrolling Twitter like my life depended on it. My friends were inside, waving me over to add my name to the song list. Twenty-seven years old and I still felt twelve. Voice shaking, palms sweaty, brain screaming RUN.

That was the night I realised confidence isn’t a light switch. It’s more like phone battery: you charge it in small, boring increments and, one day, you stop hugging the wall. Below are the practices that moved me from hallway-lurker to first-verse-belter. Try them, bend them, remix them. Just don’t wait for courage to magically show up. It’s busy. Call it instead.

Fear hates daylight

Anxiety grows in the dark. Drag it into the sun and it shrinks.

Step one: name the specific thing you’re scared to try. Not “I hate parties.” Try “I freeze when someone asks what I do for work.” The more granular, the easier to tackle.

Grab a sticky note (screens count) and write:

‣ What is the actual worst-case scenario?

‣ How likely is that on a 1-10 scale?

‣ What is one small thing I can do if that happens?

Nine times out of ten you’ll see the monster is more sock puppet than Godzilla. When your brain comes back with “But what if everyone laughs?”, point to the note. We already ran that simulation, brain. Next.

Win tiny, win early

Confidence is momentum, not magic. Aim for wins so small they feel a bit silly.

Pick a daily micro-challenge that nudges, not bulldozes, your comfort zone:

• Ask the barista how their day is going, even if you mumble.
• Unmute yourself first on the Zoom call just to say “Hey team.”
• Message a meme to a group chat instead of lurking.

  Log each win in your notes app with a one-word title. “Barista.” “Zoom.” “Meme.” Scroll that list before the next scary thing. Proof of bravery, right there in 14-point Helvetica.

  Talk to yourself like a teammate

  If you spoke to friends the way you speak to yourself, they’d block you. Swap the inner heckler for a half-decent coach.

  1. Flip to second person. Instead of “I am going to bomb this,” tell yourself, “You’ve handled tougher rooms.” Research folks much smarter than me shows the second-person trick calms nerves.

2. Record a 30-second voice memo pep talk while you’re in a decent mood. Play it on bad days. Yes, it feels ridiculous. Do it anyway.

3. End each night with one sentence: “Today I was brave when…”. Your brain loves clean story endings; give it a heroic one.

Cosplay the confident you

Act first, feelings catch up later. I call it low-budget cosplay. No cape required.

• Pick a small visual anchor. Could be a jacket, a playlist in your earbuds, or a ringtone from some 2000s sitcom that makes you grin.

• Decide on a single behaviour your “confident character” always does. Maybe they hold eye contact for two seconds longer, or they lead with a handshake.
• Set a timer for five minutes and stay in character. After the buzzer, you can drop it. Spoiler: you usually forget to drop it.

  I sang “Mr. Brightside” wearing a thrift-store leather jacket two sizes too big. I still can’t look at that jacket without straightening my posture.

  Build your arena

  You don’t need the Roman Colosseum. You need a sandbox.

  Start with environments that are low stakes and high friendliness:

– Volunteer at a neighbourhood event where nobody knows your résumé.

– Join a weekly hobby meetup that revolves around doing, not talking - board games, pottery, urban gardening.

– Set up a two-person accountability chat. You try the new thing, ping your buddy, earn a dumb emoji trophy.

Each arena is a rehearsal for bigger crowds. Gradually raise the stakes, the way video games unlock harder levels only after you beat the tutorial.

After my karaoke hallway panic, I made a deal with a friend: we’d pick one “scary social mini-quest” every Friday night. By month three, she was hosting a book club, I was speaking on a tiny conference panel, and the hallway felt like ancient history.

I won’t pretend fear vanishes. Mine still texts me weird hours. The difference now? I text back, “Seen.” Then I put my phone away and step onto whatever stage is in front of me.

Confidence is earned, not gifted. Go earn five percent today. Tomorrow has a thing for people who tried.