I Learned How to Believe in Myself
And Music Became a Whole New Game.
It's amazing how far into life you can get without believing in yourself whatsoever. These days, I'd compare it to learning to play the piano by using a paper keyboard and never really playing a piano. In theory, I suppose you could kind of do it, but... no not really, nope. Going through life without believing yourself is like never really experiencing what it's like to be you because you just end up constantly holding yourself back. It's like the silliest, most unnecessary kind of prison, yet it can feel so impossible to escape. I should know, I was in it for like 26 years. For what it's worth, here's (more or less) how I got out.
First...
I used logic. For years, other people had been telling me that I was great: a great musician, talented artist, smart, good-looking, blah blah, you get it. And every time I would make up a reason why it wasn't true. I'd decide that the person was trying to get something from me, that they were lying because they didn't want to hurt my feelings, or even that they must not be very good or smart and that's why they'd think I was. After years of this, I finally decided that it would be illogical for all of these people to be lying. What good could they possibly be getting from lying to me? So, I decided that, logically, they must be saying it because I actually was good in whatever way. Then, whenever I found myself starting to make up a story about how I wasn't any good and everyone was just lying to me, I could recall this little piece of logic and use it to squash that thought.
Next...
I realized my behavior, which had been completely built around this lack of belief in myself, needed to change. As ridiculous as it might sound to some, I started by looking at myself in the mirror and saying "I am confident, beautiful and talented. I know what I want, and I get what I want, because I am a force to be reckoned with." I said it over and over again. It didn't work at first, because I was just lying to my reflection and it made me feel like a crazy person. But eventually, I started to notice that I felt better about myself. I actually began to believe the words. The brain is like a computer. If we change the programming, we can change its operations.
Then...
Photo by Vince Fleming on Unsplash
I started to write songs that I needed to hear. This whole reprogramming thing requires a lot of repetition. You have to continually remind yourself that you are good, that you have every reason to be confident, that other people are rooting for you (even if they're not, it's better to just default to the belief that they are until proven otherwise). So, instead of writing songs that came from the insecurities I had clung to for so long, I started writing lyrics that I needed to hear to get better. I'd pretend that I was writing them to some other person who was struggling with my same kind of issues, but who I could see deserved to have all the confidence in the world. Then I'd sing them over and over. When I got on stage, I'd use them as a real-time therapy session for myself to get through the set and feel good about it. I started to enjoy performing, to remember how much I love to play and sing, rather than just talk shit to myself in my head about how nobody really wanted me up there. My entire world started to change, and with it, my music.
The thing is...
Everyone deserves to believe in themselves. Self-confidence is not something reserved for the "talented" few. Going through life not believing in yourself, frankly, is a complete waste of your and everyone else's time. As someone who has literally nothing to gain from you believing me, I'm telling you, it's true. You deserve to believe in yourself. And maybe, we all owe it to each other to believe in ourselves. The more we believe in ourselves, the more empowered we are, the more our art and music will reflect that feeling into the world, and the more empowered all those who hear and see it will be. Of course, none of us will be completely free of our insecurities. But, the quest to truly believe in yourself is absolutely worth the work. We're all getting there.
Rock on.
If you're interested in hearing/reading more, check out my site! Thanks for reading, y'all <3
About the Creator
Lizabeth Yandel
Lizabeth is a writer and musician based in San Diego, CA and originally from Chicago. She is a candidate in the poetry MFA at UC Irvine and is currently a poetry reader for The Adroit Journal. Her original music is available on Spotify.
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“He Kept Going When No One Was Watching — And That Changed Everything”
No one ever noticed the days he almost gave up. There were no messages asking if he was okay. No one wondered why he became quieter. No one asked how much effort it took just to keep going. To the world, he was just another ordinary man. His name was Ayaan. Ayaan’s life didn’t collapse in one dramatic moment. It slowly faded. Missed opportunities. Rejected ideas. Silent disappointments. Every failure was small, but together they became heavy. He had dreams once. Big ones. Dreams that kept him awake at night, imagining a future where his hard work would finally matter. But over time, those dreams began to feel unrealistic—almost embarrassing. People around him seemed to move forward effortlessly. They celebrated promotions, achievements, and milestones. Ayaan watched from the side, smiling politely while feeling invisible. At work, his efforts were ignored. Among friends, his voice faded. At home, expectations weighed heavily on him. Slowly, a dangerous thought settled into his mind: “Maybe I’m not good enough.” That thought followed him everywhere. It followed him on crowded buses. It followed him into sleepless nights. It followed him every time he tried again and failed. One night, after scrolling through endless success stories online, Ayaan closed his phone and stared at the dark ceiling. His chest felt tight, not because of pain—but because of exhaustion. He whispered quietly, “How long do I keep trying?” There was no answer. But that night, Ayaan made a decision—not a loud one, not a confident one. A tired decision. He decided to keep going, even if nothing changed. The next morning felt the same. The same routine. The same doubts. The same fear of wasting his life. But Ayaan showed up anyway. He worked when no one praised him. He studied when no one guided him. He practiced when no one believed in him. Some days, motivation disappeared completely. On those days, discipline took over. He reminded himself: “I don’t need applause. I need progress.” Weeks passed. Nothing dramatic happened. No sudden success. No recognition. No miracle. But something subtle began to shift. Ayaan became calmer under pressure. He learned to sit with discomfort instead of running from it. He stopped comparing his journey to others. The silence that once scared him now became his training ground. Months later, a serious problem appeared at his workplace. It was complicated, risky, and easy to blame on someone else. Most people avoided it. Some pretended it wasn’t their responsibility. Ayaan didn’t announce himself. He didn’t seek attention. He simply started working. Late nights. Mistakes. Corrections. Learning. There were moments he wanted to quit. Moments when fear whispered, “You’re not ready.” But he answered back, “I’ll learn.” Slowly, the problem began to disappear. Not perfectly—but steadily. People noticed, quietly. One afternoon, his manager called him into the office. Ayaan expected criticism. Instead, he heard a question that stunned him: “Where did you learn all this?” Ayaan paused. How could he explain years of silent effort? How could he explain working when no one cared? He simply replied, “I kept going.” That moment didn’t change his life overnight. He didn’t become famous. He didn’t suddenly become successful. But it changed something far more important. His belief in himself. For the first time, Ayaan understood that life doesn’t always reward effort immediately. Sometimes, it watches. It watches who continues without praise. Who improves without recognition. Who grows in silence. Years later, Ayaan looked back at the version of himself who almost quit. The man who felt invisible. The man who thought no one was watching. And he smiled. Because he finally understood the truth: Life was always watching. Not to judge. Not to rush. But to see if he would keep going when it was hardest. The world doesn’t reward those who only work when they’re seen. It rewards those who build strength in silence. And sometimes, the moment that changes everything doesn’t come with applause. It comes quietly. After patience. After effort. After consistency. That is when everything finally begins to change. Final Message Keep going—even when no one is watching. Especially then.
By Inayat khan5 days ago in Motivation
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