My Insecurities

Let us talk about those moments—those nagging voices in the back of our minds telling us we're not good enough, smart enough, or talented enough. For me, these voices were loud and persistent, often drowning out any sense of confidence I tried to muster. But through a series of experiences, I’ve learned that these voices are not mine to keep. They’re borrowed, shaped by others’ words and actions, and they can be challenged. My journey began with a dream—a dream to become an actor. As a kid, I was fearless, untouched by the world’s harsh judgments. But as I grew older and pursued my passion, the world started telling me I wasn’t enough. Casting directors, agents, and even strangers on the street seemed to echo the same sentiment: I wasn’t tall enough, thin enough, or simply good enough. And slowly, I started to believe them.

The turning point came when I was offered my first real audition. It wasn’t for a background role where I could blend into the scenery, but for a part that required a skill I didn’t have—juggling. When my agent asked if I could juggle, I said yes without hesitation, even though I had never juggled a day in my life. I was terrified, but I also knew this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. That night, I frantically learned how to juggle. It wasn’t pretty, but by the end of the night, I could manage a few seconds of juggling. The next day, I walked into the audition room, surrounded by professional jugglers who made it look effortless. My insecurities screamed at me that I didn’t belong there, but I pushed through. I started juggling, and within seconds, I dropped the ball. My worst fear had come true. But instead of giving up, I picked up the ball and kept going.

To my surprise, I got the part. It turns out the role was for a “stupid jester” who was supposed to drop the ball. In that moment, I realized something profound: The negative voices in my head weren’t telling the truth. They were just echoes of the fears and insecurities I had internalized over the years. The casting directors weren’t looking for perfection; they were looking for authenticity. And by embracing my imperfections, I had given them exactly what they wanted.

This experience taught me that the voices we hear—those that tell us we’re not good enough—aren’t our own. They come from external sources, from people who may not even realize the impact of their words. But just because we hear them doesn’t mean we have to believe them. We have the power to challenge these voices, to question their validity, and to replace them with our own truths. It’s not easy, and it doesn’t happen overnight. It took years of practice, of showing up even when I felt like a fraud, to quiet those voices. But each time I pushed through the fear, I grew a little stronger. I learned to start small, to build momentum, and to surround myself with people who believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

I also learned that failure is part of the process. We often see the success stories, but we don’t see the years of struggle, the countless rejections, and the moments of self-doubt that led to that success. But it’s in those moments of failure that we grow the most. It’s when we pick ourselves up after dropping the ball that we discover our true strength.

So the next time those voices tell you you’re not good enough, remember this: They’re not your voices. You have the power to silence them, to prove them wrong, and to live the life you’ve always dreamed of. Don’t let someone else’s words define your worth. You are more than enough. And when opportunity comes knocking, don’t be afraid to drop the ball. You might just find that it’s the best thing that ever happened to you.