When I was five years old, a professional ballet company performing in our town asked for a volunteer from the audience. My hand shot up without hesitation. Minutes later, I was on stage in front of more than 2,000 people, dancing with the prince, demonstrating my ballet moves with complete confidence. When I looked out at that sea of faces, I never once thought about what they were thinking. I was just thrilled to be dancing with the prince and knew I was talented enough to do it properly; after all, I'd been taking ballet classes.
Before society leached into my life, I was fearless.
What happens between that uninhibited five-year-old and the adult who hesitates before speaking up? Life. Experience. The accumulation of moments when we learned that not everyone celebrates our authentic expression. The first time someone laughed at our ideas. The first rejection. The first time we realized that being ourselves might cost us belonging.
We don't lose our courage all at once. It gets filtered away slowly, experience by experience, until we find ourselves carefully calculating the risks of simply being who we are. At the same time, we start to criticize ourselves for those times we falter.
I've spent decades believing courage was something I either had or didn't have, like a gene you're born with or a muscle that either works or doesn't. Even as an adult, I can recall the times I felt invincible: packing up my life to move across the country, where I knew no one, traveling solo to places that terrified and thrilled me, and starting over when everything felt uncertain. Friends would marvel at my "fearlessness," calling me brave for taking such bold steps.
Yet in those same years, there were countless moments when I shrank into corners, stayed silent when I should have spoken, chose safety over authenticity because I was terrified of being excluded, disliked, or dismissed. When people praised my courage, I felt like a fraud. How could I be brave when fear so often ruled my choices? How was I the same person who once danced fearlessly in front of thousands?
It took me far too long to understand a fundamental truth: courage isn't the absence of fear; it's the decision to move forward in spite of it.
The Misunderstood Nature of Fear
Fear has gotten a bad reputation in our culture of positivity and empowerment. We're told to "feel the fear and do it anyway" or to "push through" our anxieties. But Dr. Susan David, a Harvard psychologist and author of "Emotional Agility," reminds us that emotions, including fear, are data, not directives. Fear often signals that something matters deeply to us.
When we're afraid of speaking up in a meeting, it might be because belonging and acceptance matter to us, and that's not weakness; it's human. When we're terrified of pursuing a dream, it's often because that dream represents something precious - our authentic self trying to emerge - and the significant change that will happen when we take the risk and join the dance. Fear isn't always the enemy of authenticity; sometimes it's the guardian at the threshold, asking us to consider what we're willing to risk for what we truly want.
Think of fear as that friend who grabs your arm before you cross a busy street, not to stop you from getting where you're going, but to make sure you're looking both ways first. When I was preparing to move across the country, my fear wasn't trying to sabotage my adventure; it was cataloging real concerns: Would I succeed or fail and have to come home again? Would I like the high desert of California? Would I make friends or be lonely? Would I hate my job or the people I worked with or my boss?
That fear was doing its job, protecting something precious. In this case, it was protecting my sense of success and belonging, my need for connection, my professional identity. The fear wasn't wrong to value these things; they matter deeply. But it also wasn't the final authority on whether the risk was worth taking.
Three Ways We Navigate Fear and Authenticity
Understanding fear as a guardian helps us recognize three distinct ways we respond when our authentic self bumps up against uncertainty:
Freezing from Fear: This is when fear takes the wheel completely. We become paralyzed, unable to move forward or backward. I've been there standing in my kitchen at 2 AM, job offer in hand, replaying every possible disaster scenario instead of making a decision. When we freeze, we're not choosing safety; we're choosing limbo. The fear meant to protect us becomes a prison that prevents any authentic action at all.
Freezing often happens when we make fear bigger than it actually is, when we catastrophize outcomes or convince ourselves that one wrong move will ruin everything. In this state, even small authentic choices feel impossible.
Deciding Not to Act Because It's Actually the Best Choice: This is conscious, values-based discernment. Sometimes our fear is giving us legitimate information, and choosing not to act is the most authentic response. Maybe the timing isn't right. Maybe the cost genuinely outweighs the benefit. Maybe there's a wiser path forward that we can't see yet.
When I decided not to speak up in certain situations, sometimes it wasn't cowardice, it was wisdom. I was choosing to preserve relationships that mattered, waiting for a better moment, or recognizing that this particular battle wasn't mine to fight. The key difference from freezing is that this choice comes from our centered, adult wisdom, not from terror.
Acting Authentically Despite Fear: This is courage in action, feeling the fear, thanking it for its concern, and moving forward anyway because something deeper than safety is calling us. When I finally said yes to that cross-country move, I wasn't fearless. I was terrified. But I was also clear that staying safe was costing me more than taking the risk.
This isn't about being reckless or "pushing through" by force. It's about making space for both fear and action, letting them coexist. The fear about whether I'd like the high desert, whether I'd make friends, whether I'd succeed, it all came with me on the plane (so did my very unhappy cat by the way). But so did my commitment to finding out who I could become.
Here's something I've learned to accept about myself: wanting to belong doesn't make me less authentic. Connection is a fundamental human need, not a character flaw. The challenge isn't to stop caring about inclusion or acceptance, it's learning to discern when we're compromising our core truth for temporary belonging versus when we're simply choosing our battles wisely.
But here's where I get myself into trouble: I'm incredibly black and white in judging myself. If I stop myself from speaking up because of fear, or if I hesitate, or if I let fear influence my choices at all, I think there's something wrong with that. In my mind, the only "good" thing is not to be afraid and to always speak my mind. I hold myself to this impossible standard where any moment of fear-based hesitation becomes evidence of my failure.
The irony? With others, I embrace ambiguity. I don't hold anyone else to these rigid standards. I understand that people are complex, that they have valid reasons for their choices, that courage looks different for everyone. But when it comes to me, I use that black-and-white thinking to beat myself up, which feeds right into perfectionism and makes the whole cycle worse.
The problem isn't feeling fear or wanting to belong; it's when fear becomes the sole decision-maker, when we consistently choose comfort over growth, or when we abandon our values entirely for acceptance. There's wisdom in reading rooms and considering impact. The key is ensuring that our authentic self remains the author of our choices, even when we decide that speaking up in a particular moment isn't the right move. We become skilled at reading rooms, anticipating reactions, and shapeshifting to avoid discomfort. But in protecting ourselves from rejection or judgment, we often reject and judge ourselves first.
Research by Dr. Kristin Neff on self-compassion reveals that our inner critic, that voice that calls us frauds or failures, actually heightens our fear response. When we're harsh with ourselves about feeling afraid, we create additional layers of anxiety. The fear of being afraid becomes its own prison. And when we add perfectionist standards on top of that, the belief that we should never let fear influence our choices, we're essentially setting ourselves up for constant self-attack.
I see this pattern so clearly in my own life. I can be incredibly compassionate with a friend who admits she was too scared to speak up in a meeting, understanding all the valid reasons why that felt risky. But if I do the same thing? I'm weak, I'm inauthentic, I'm failing at my own values. This double standard doesn't motivate me, it paralyzes me further.
The Oscillation of Human Experience
Here's what I wish I'd understood decades ago: everyone wavers between strength and self-doubt. The myth of consistent confidence is exactly that – a myth. Even the most accomplished women I know have days when they question everything about themselves. The difference isn't that courageous people don't feel uncertain; it's that they've learned to act with uncertainty as their companion.
Dr. Amy Cuddy's research on presence shows us that confidence isn't a prerequisite for courageous action, it's often the result. When we take small brave steps despite our fears, we build evidence of our own resilience. Each time we speak up when our voice shakes, each time we show up imperfectly, we're not just acting courageously, we're becoming more courageous.
I think about the friend who told me, "When you put your mind to something, you achieve it!" He saw my moves across the country, my solo travels, my willingness to start over. But he didn't see the sleepless nights before those decisions, the way I'd rehearse conversations in my head, or how I'd sometimes sit in my car for twenty minutes before walking into a new place.
What he was witnessing wasn't fearlessness, it was fear walking alongside determination.
Redefining Courage for Authentic Living
Real courage in the context of authentic living isn't about grand gestures or dramatic transformations. It's often quiet and deeply personal. It's the moment you admit you don't have all the answers. It's owning your story, including the messy parts. It's saying yes before you feel ready, not because you're reckless, but because growth requires us to outgrow our current comfort zones.
Dr. Brené Brown's research on vulnerability reveals that courage, connection, and creativity are borne from our willingness to be seen as we truly are, uncertain, imperfect, and still figuring it out. This kind of authenticity requires what she calls "ordinary courage" the daily choice to show up and be seen, even when we can't control the outcome.
For women who've chosen unconventional paths, this courage takes on additional dimensions. We're not just overcoming personal fears; we're often challenging societal expectations about how women "should" live, love, and find fulfillment. The courage to remain single when everyone asks about your dating life. The courage to pursue a non-traditional career when family questions your choices. The courage to admit you don't want children in a world that assumes all women do.
But here's the nuance: authenticity doesn't require us to be confrontational or to reject every social norm. Sometimes the most authentic choice is to smile and change the subject when someone asks about your love life for the hundredth time. Sometimes it's participating in traditions that bring you joy, even if they're conventional. Authenticity is about conscious choice, not automatic rebellion.
These acts of authenticity require us to develop what psychologist Dr. Kelly McGonigal calls "moral courage" the strength to act in alignment with our values even when it's uncomfortable or unpopular.
Strategies for Acting Despite Fear
Living authentically while afraid isn't about eliminating fear, it's about developing a different relationship with it. Here are approaches that research and experience have shown to be effective:
Start with self-compassion. When fear arises, instead of berating yourself for feeling it, try speaking to yourself as you would a dear friend. This is especially crucial if you tend toward black-and-white thinking about courage. Notice when you're holding yourself to impossible standards, demanding that you never feel afraid or always speak up, while offering others understanding and grace. Dr. Neff's research shows that self-compassionate people are actually more likely to take healthy risks because they know they'll be kind to themselves regardless of the outcome.
Practice the "next right step" approach. Once you've discerned whether your fear is paralyzing you, guiding you to wait, or calling you to act, focus on what the next authentic action would be. You don't need to see the whole staircase, just the next step (a riff on one of my favorite quotes from Martin Luthe King). This approach, supported by behavioral psychology, helps bypass the paralysis that comes from trying to feel completely prepared.
Develop your "courage anchors." These are reminders of times you've acted bravely before, values that matter more than comfort, or supportive people who believe in your worth. When fear gets loud, anchors keep you connected to your deeper truth.
Reframe the inner critic. That voice that calls you a fraud or questions your worthiness isn't your enemy, it's often your internalized protector, trying to keep you safe from rejection. Instead of fighting this voice, try having a conversation with it. What is it trying to protect? What does it fear will happen if you act authentically? Thank it for its concern, acknowledge what it's guarding, then choose to act from your adult wisdom rather than your protective fears. This approach, rooted in Internal Family Systems therapy, helps us integrate our protective parts rather than battle them.
Build community. Courage is contagious. Surrounding yourself with other women who are also choosing authenticity over approval creates an environment where brave choices feel more possible.
The wisdom in all of this lies in thanking fear for the information it provides while still making choices that serve our authentic self. Sometimes that means honoring what fear is protecting by finding a gentler way forward. Sometimes it means acknowledging the value of what might be lost while still choosing growth over safety.
A Deeper Dive: Fear-Facing Ladder
✨ Bonus Resource Just for You! ✨
This week’s Deeper Dive: Fear-Facing Ladder: 7-Day Courage Building Worksheet offers a step-by-step reflection journey designed to help you examine the messages you’ve internalized, clarify your true values, practice vulnerability, and build community around your authentic self.
I’m providing this as a separate, downloadable resource so you can easily save it, print it, or return to it anytime, no scrolling back through the article required. This is my small thank-you to you, my fellow travelers, for being part of this journey.
Paid Subscribers can access this and other downloadable tools and resources on the “Fearless Authenticity Toolkit” Tab, a one-stop space on the homepage.
Daily Mantra
Carry this mantra with you throughout the week, especially when facing challenges:
"I am both strong and uncertain, and this makes me authentically human, not fraudulent."
Repeat this mantra daily as a reminder to check in with your authentic self before making decisions or responding to external expectations.
A Path Forward
As you continue to navigate social expectations and personal choices, remember that your path is uniquely yours. Embrace the journey, celebrate your accomplishments, and surround yourself with people who support and uplift you.
Join me each Sunday at 10:10 a.m. ET for inspiration, encouragement, and community. Why 1010? In numerology, 1010 symbolizes new beginnings, spiritual awakening, and the realization of our potential.
Resources for Your Journey
Top Books:
"The Power of Vulnerability" by Brené Brown - Her collection of teachings on authenticity, connection, and courage helps dispel the myth that vulnerability is weakness, revealing that it is, in truth, our most accurate measure of courage.
"Emotional Agility" by Susan David - Learn to face thoughts, emotions, and behaviors willingly, with curiosity and kindness, and recognize that emotions are data, not directives.
"Daring Greatly" by Brené Brown - Explores how vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change.
Transformative Podcasts:
"Unlocking Us" by Brené Brown - Real, heartfelt conversations with various guests from thought leaders to writers and activists about vulnerability, courage, and empathy.
"We Can Do Hard Things" by Glennon Doyle - Honest talk about the hard stuff of life with openness and hope, featuring conversations that help navigate difficult emotions and choices.
"The Frequency of Courage" - Navigates extraordinary acts of courage, uncovering raw and authentic narratives that define resilience through self-discovery and overcoming challenges.
Thank you for another helpful and insightful Sunday morning 1010 message. I feel the stirrings of .... what is it? Maybe something real. 🙏🌹