When Confidence Sounds Like Lying

I know what I mean, and still I hesitate. Not because I’m unsure, but because I’m afraid of how sure it sounds.

Confidence, to me, has always looked like someone skipping the messy part. Like someone editing out their fear and calling it strength.

So I soften my statements. I add “maybe.” I add “I think.” I put cushions around the truth so it won’t hurt anyone—including me.

But the more I cushion, the less I recognize my own voice.

I’m trying to learn this: certainty doesn’t have to be cruel. It can be gentle, and still be real.