Don't be a ghost

on confidence, self-erasure, and accidentally saying "happy birthday" back

Anyway,

A few months ago, I made the mistake of looking at the guest list before a SXSW dinner.

If you’ve ever struggled with imposter syndrome, I highly recommend not doing this.

As I scrolled through the list I became increasingly convinced there had been some sort of administrative error in inviting me: CEOs. Founders. Women running massive companies.

And then... Michelle Nash Bedillion. Photographer.

The other titles were impressive, for a minute I forgot that every single one of those women was once a baby too. At the time, Woods was about five months old, and I was still getting my feet under me. My body still felt unfamiliar and confidence wasn’t exactly flowing. I hadn’t slept much and had recently responded “Happy Birthday!” to someone who wished me a happy birthday. On my birthday. It took me several hours to realize what I’d done.

So naturally, I got to the dinner and wasn’t feeling on my game. I started comparing myself to everyone in the room, you know, the thing that always makes people feel better.

sneak peek at my zine coming late summer!

.The funny thing is that if you’d asked me before becoming a mother whether I was a confident person, I probably would’ve said yes. Not in a loud way. Not in a “look at me” way. More in a quiet way. I rarely spend too much time these days worrying about what people think of me. I started a photography business with absolutely no idea what I was doing. I share things online without overthinking them too much. I generally trust myself to figure things out.

But motherhood has a funny way of exposing the cracks in places you thought were solid. When you spend your days caring for a baby who changes every week, it’s hard not to notice how much of life is completely out of your control.

So there I was, sitting at a table full of women I deeply admired, waiting for my turn in the roundtable and trying not to suddenly identify as “just a photographer.”

At some point, I ended up talking to a woman who has built an incredible business and worked with some of the biggest brands out there. We got on the topic of confidence and showing up in the world. And she said something that has rattled around in my brain ever since.

“If you’re not sold on what you’re here to give, why would anyone else be?”

I wanted to argue with her immediately. Not because she was wrong, but because she was right!

I’ve spent a lot of my life in the “I’m not that important” camp. Which is, in fact, a useful reminder sometimes. The world does not revolve around me, I’m a tiny speck on a giant rock, we know this. But somewhere along the way, I think I confused humility with self-erasure. Like if I acknowledged I was good at something, I was being arrogant. If I talked confidently about my work, I was full of myself. If I took up too much space, someone was going to issue me a citation.

The older I get, the less I think confidence has anything to do with charisma, followers, job titles, or how impressive your LinkedIn looks. I think it’s knowing who you are, what you value, and what you bring to the table. And maybe more importantly, what you don’t.

This year, for the first time, my rates put me firmly in the luxury tier of photographers. Even typing that makes me want to crawl under a table. But it’s true. And getting there required confidence- not that I’m the best photographer (I’m not), not that nobody else can do what I do (plenty of people can). Just that I bring something valuable to the table, and it’s okay to charge accordingly. That’s a very different thing.

And weirdly, the more secure I’ve become in myself, the easier it’s become to celebrate other people.

I think about this a lot online. One of my more niche opinions is that being a ghost on the internet is terrible for your mental health. Not because you need to post more. But because social media feels fundamentally different when you’re participating instead of just observing. If I see something beautiful or cute, I tell the person. If a friend launches something, I comment. If somebody writes something thoughtful, I send them a note. Otherwise, what are we doing? Just quietly collecting information on each other? That feels strangely lonely.

The periods where social media feels the worst are usually the periods where I’m consuming a lot and contributing almost nothing. Just watching everybody else’s life.

Support costs almost nothing. A comment takes ten seconds. A text takes thirty. And yet people act like encouragement is a finite resource.

The most confident people I know aren’t like that. They’re generous with their excitement. They celebrate other people without making it about themselves. They make introductions, share opportunities, pass along advice. Not because they’re saints. They’re just secure enough to know somebody else’s success doesn’t take anything away from their own.

I think that’s what confidence actually is. Not thinking you’re better than everyone else. Not being the loudest person in the room. Just being secure enough in who you are that you don’t need to shrink yourself, and you don’t need to shrink anyone else either.

I’m still working on it. But that’s the version I’m interested in. And P.S. the world needs more confident women!

xoxo,
Michelle

The Gentle Recs Section™:

• On the topic of confidence, Woods and I rap this song every morning. Highly recommend if you have young kids!

• My latest pair(s) of amazon shades. Ordering the purple next!

• Gentle assignment this month: text someone whose work you admire and tell them specifically why.

• Currently reading: Theo of Golden. And loving it! It’s a coming-of-age novel about friendship, belonging, and figuring out who you are. Which apparently is a theme I can never quit.

• Random but this rice has changed my life when cooking at home. You just tear the bag and microwave it for 90 seconds, and it’s ready. You’re welcome!