Throughout my life, I have always struggled with self-confidence. I’m not entirely sure where the trait came from, but I do know that it has followed me insidiously throughout my life. Growing up, I struggled to make friends with kids my own age because I was always unsure of how they perceived me. And once I started playing saxophone, it followed me there too, causing me to constantly compare my abilities to theirs. I strove to prove my abilities to those around me in order to receive their validation. I struggled with it even during high school, having found a close-knit group of friends who were also involved in band. One of those friends played saxophone as well, and we developed a slight rivalry as we each pushed to become more proficient on our instrument; secretly, though, I was always slightly envious of my friend, whose musicianship seemed to come to him effortlessly and constantly earned him praise from the band directors. So when he was chosen to be the soloist for our senior marching band show, I did my best to be supportive of him. Still, it was difficult because it felt like, yet again, my abilities and talent as a musician had been ignored. Eventually, though, I grew to accept our differing roles. I had been made woodwind captain of the marching band that year, and I realized that I really did enjoy working and interacting with the other members of the marching band, something I would not have been able to do as a soloist. However, I still quietly harbored the desire for just one chance to show the band that I could play every bit as well as my friend and seemingly like a miracle, the chance arrived.
The week before one of our major competitions, our band was thrown into a panic when my friend grew sick and was thus unable to play at the competition. My directors immediately turned to me, asking me if I could prepare the solo in time. I accepted enthusiastically and immediately set to work preparing the solo. Every second of my spare time was spent with that solo, during lunch, before practice, and even during band rehearsals. I lived and breathed the solo for a solid week, making sure that I would do the end product justice. Finally, the day of the performance arrived, and in the hours before my performance, I was a wreck. This would be the largest crowd I had ever performed in front of before in my life, and I had only had this solo for a week! How could I possibly expect that I could perform this at the level that the band deserved? My friends tried to encourage me, but my self-doubt overwhelmed me. There was no true moment where it went away. Actually, it stuck with me until the moment that the performance started, at which point I told myself, “Your fears aren’t what matter right now. You just have to go out there and play.” And so, I did; I played the solo with passion and emotion infusing every fiber of my body. I left everything on the field. And when I was done, I reveled in the crowd’s enthusiasm, which soared to match my own euphoria.
After the competition, it seemed like every single person I knew was coming up to congratulate me on how well the performance had gone. But it wasn’t until that night, as I rode home on the bus, that I realized what really stuck with me about the performance. I hadn’t needed anyone’s encouragement in order to perform well. Furthermore, I hadn’t needed anyone to tell me that I had done an amazing job once I had finished. Even before the last note of my solo had ended, I knew that every ounce of preparation I had put in had allowed me to create something truly beautiful through my playing. I realized that that ability was inside of me all along, and I didn’t need to prove it to anyone else. The experience caused me to reexamine my perception of my musical abilities and even myself as a whole. I realized that I no longer needed anyone else’s validation as to what I could achieve; instead, I could let go of that doubt and simply play. Every now and again, I forget that fact. My struggle with self-confidence is something that I doubt will truly ever go away. But in those moments where doubt threatens to overwhelm me, I can take a moment to stop. Take a deep breath. And remember that no matter what impossibilities I face, the ability to overcome them lies within me.