I’ve been thinking about confidence: how it finds us, how we hold it, how it grows deep in our bones over time. The thought started in a work context, but the echoes of it rang louder. Across every boardroom, every bedroom, every battlefield where a woman dared to take up space, I felt it vibrating.

Confidence isn’t lipstick or lace. It isn’t a curated Instagram quote or a TED Talk power stance. Sure, I love adornment. But that’s not the source. I’m talking about something deeper: an embodied knowing. A hum in the blood. The kind of presence that says, “I am here,” and suddenly the room shifts.

For most women, confidence isn’t inherited. It’s forged. In silence. In rage.

In every moment we stopped apologizing for existing at full volume.

Confidence isn’t handed down through lineage. It’s reclaimed, ripped back from systems that told us we were too much, too loud, too angry, too emotional, too big, too ambitious, too everything.

Feminism is the crucible. And confidence is the flame it births.

It is not about perfection. It is not about likability. It is not about ‘leaning in’ while the table was never made for us. Confidence is about knowing who you are, what you carry, and refusing to shrink.

Confidence isn’t performance. It’s embodied presence.

Research in psychology tells us confidence isn’t just a belief. It’s embodied sensation. Amy Cuddy’s studies on nonverbal expression and “power posing” suggest that posture and presence can influence not just how others perceive us, but how we perceive ourselves (Cuddy, 2012). But even more recent studies go deeper: confidence arises when the nervous system feels safe, anchored, and connected. It’s not a mental mantra. It’s biological regulation.

When your body feels safe, when your breath is steady, your muscles relaxed, and your emotional brain isn’t firing in threat mode, then your voice emerges. Then your boundaries hold. Then your power hums.

Psychology Today defines confidence as ‘a belief in oneself and the willingness to act accordingly.’ That’s not about surface charisma. It’s about a commitment to your truth. Albert Bandura’s theory of self-efficacy reinforces this: belief in one’s capacity to act and to master challenge is the root of true confidence.

Confidence isn’t born from praise. It’s born from evidence. From the memory in your bones that says: I’ve survived worse. I’ve rebuilt before. I will rise again.

Each time you speak up when your voice shakes, each time you hold a boundary instead of shrinking, you are layering trust into your own foundation.

Performance is a mask. Presence is marrow.

Highly confident individuals possess an internal locus of control. They believe they can influence outcomes through their actions. This belief correlates with greater resilience, self-esteem, and even professional success (Rotter, 1966; Lefcourt, 1982).

In contrast, performance anxiety is born from external validation-seeking. From fearing failure in front of others. From playing the role instead of inhabiting the soul.

Presence doesn’t ask, “Do they like me?” It states, “This is who I am.”

The Psychology of Power and Authenticity

Emotional Intelligence (EQ): Research ties EQ to stronger leadership and confidence. Women, especially, often carry high EQ but are trained to mute it to fit male-dominated spaces. Claim it. Emotional fluency is power.

Insight and Reflection: True transformation isn’t performative. It’s resonant. It reverberates through the body. Self-awareness is the first rebellion.

Self-Silencing: Chronic self-silencing (Jack, 1991) has been shown to impact physical and emotional health. Letting yourself speak isn’t a luxury. It’s liberation.

Invitation to Reflection

• Where do you feel your power in your body? In your spine? Your chest? Your voice?
• How do you know when you’re present, not performing? Do you feel grounded or are you scanning the room for approval?
• When were you first taught to shrink? Who told you your fire was too much? Who benefits when you dim?

A Path Toward Embodied Feminine Power

Practice grounding rituals. Breathwork, dance, mindful posture. Train your body to remember you are safe in your own skin.

Reclaim your voice. Speak even when you’re afraid. The fear doesn’t mean you’re wrong. It means you’re breaking a pattern.

Journal your triumphs. Reflect on moments where you chose courage over comfort. These become your receipts. Your roots.

Surround yourself with truth-tellers, not ego-strokers. Confidence thrives in fertile soil. Build relationships that water your growth, not just applaud your gloss.

Final Thought

Confidence is not a costume you wear. It’s a badge branded on your soul.

It’s the result of fire, friction, and refusal. It’s built in every step we take toward our truth, even when the path is dark and the voice is trembling.

You don’t need to become someone else to be powerful. You only need to remember who you were before the world convinced you to forget.

Let’s talk. How does your body speak power? Where do you feel sacred? Let’s build an altar to your presence together.