The Three Faces of Confidence (and Their Shadows)

Throughout my coaching career, I’ve tried to help players connect with themselves and move through self-doubt so they could push beyond what they thought they were capable of. I didn’t always get it right. I’m sure there are a few (maybe more) athletes who might say I had the opposite effect. To those I didn’t get right—please know that I’ve

learned and grown, and I do apologize.

As I’ve reflected on thousands of conversations and interactions with players, a few patterns have started to emerge. The obvious one is that confidence can raise your level, and a lack of it can drag it down. The less obvious one is this: even in the healthiest environments, most of us carry at least one place where our confidence has been compromised. In other words, almost everyone could use a little help turning the volume back up on their most confident self.

One way to do that — for ourselves and for the kids we coach or parent — is to understand what confidence really is, where it comes from, and how we can either nurture it or accidentally shut it down.

As I outlined this post, three kinds of confidence began to emerge. And right alongside them came their shadows — the parts that quietly work in the background to chip away at belief if we’re not paying attention.

The three types are:

• Innate Confidence — Shadow: Hubris

• Earned Confidence — Shadow: Fragility / Impostor Syndrome

• Grounded Confidence — Shadow: Perfectionism / Paralysis
  

Each comes with a gift, an alter ego (what I call “the shadow”), and a responsibility for us as adults to protect what’s healthy and keep the shadow from doing too much damage.

Innate Confidence — Protect and Ground It

We all know those kids who seem to come out of the womb dripping with confidence. They’re the ones who want the ball and show little fear. Innate confidence may be the

least common, but it’s the most obvious.

The Gift

At its core, innate confidence looks like playing freely. Things seem to come easier. Kids are willing to try new things, take risks, and not be afraid. That freedom is the real gift. When kids have it, they’re not spending energy on doubt, so they can spend it on performing.

It almost feels like a superpower. And in many ways, it is.

The Shadow

As I mentioned, each type of confidence has an alter ego — its shadow. With innate confidence, that shadow is hubris.

When natural confidence isn’t guided or tested, it can lean toward unhealthy beliefs and entitlement. You see it with the young, dominant player — the 10-year-old who scores at will, the kid everyone knows can "carry the team." Little by little, the adults around them start bending the standards. We overlook attitude. We overlook effort. We make exceptions because the output is good.

The problem is that kids notice what we tolerate. When performance buys them a free pass, accountability doesn’t grow at the same pace as their talent.

So what are we to do? How do we honor the gift without feeding the shadow?

Protect and Ground It

So how do we navigate this balancing act? We protect innate confidence by grounding it in humility, empathy, and connection.

Sometimes that’s as simple as starting with, "Did you have fun?" It’s a small question that sends a big message: I care more about your experience than your results.

When a child’s talent shows up early, it’s tempting to make it all about outcomes. Instead, we can point to what sits underneath: their focus in training, how they encouraged a teammate, or how they handled a tough moment. That keeps confidence tied to character, not just performance.

Innate confidence is a gift, but without grounding, it can become a mask. The real work is helping kids keep that spark alive without letting it burn the people around them.

Protecting innate confidence is really about this: keep the spark, but give it roots.

Earned Confidence — Build and Reinforce It

Not everyone is born with a high degree of innate confidence. For most, confidence has to be built — one repetition, one failure, one recovery at a time.

Earned confidence comes from competence. And competence comes from practice, trial and error, and the resilience to get back up after setbacks. It’s quieter, steadier, and more durable than innate confidence because it’s been battle-tested.

The Gift

Earned confidence is the kind that sticks. It’s forged through dedication and perseverance — through doing hard things and realizing you can handle them.

You see it in the free-throw shooter whose body language says they can make the shot (because they’ve made it a thousand times before). You see it in the student who walks into an exam calm, not because they’re fearless, but because they’ve prepared.

It’s confidence that’s built, not given. And the beauty of earned confidence is that it’s repeatable. When kids connect effort to growth, confidence becomes something they can recreate — not something they have to wait for.

The Shadow

Like every kind of confidence, this one has a shadow too. For earned confidence, that shadow is fragility — what many adults later feel as impostor syndrome.

When confidence is tied only to results, it can crumble the moment success pauses. You see it in the player who trains obsessively but falls apart after one bad game. Or the student who needs every grade to be perfect, or suddenly doubts all their progress.

The shadow of earned confidence whispers, "If I’m not at my best, maybe I’m not good enough after all."

How to Build and Reinforce It

Our job isn’t to hand kids confidence; it’s to help them connect their growth to the work that builds it.

Normalize the dip. Progress isn’t a straight line. When a kid struggles, remind them, "You’re not starting over — you’re building on what you’ve already done." Help them see setbacks as part of the process, not proof they’ve lost it.

Praise preparation, not performance. "I noticed how much time you spent practicing that move," carries more power than "You played great today." It anchors confidence to the process, not the outcome.

Build reflection into routine.

Ask, "What did you learn this week?" or “What do you want to try differently next time?" When kids name their own adjustments, it solidifies the link between effort and confidence.

Earned confidence grows through repetition, reflection, and the belief that growth is never wasted. Our role is to help them remember: one bad action/moment/day doesn’t erase all the work that came before it.

Grounded Confidence — Model and Sustain It

Innate confidence is what we start with. Earned confidence is what we build through repetition and doing hard things. As we mature and start to see more of the world, a

third kind can develop: grounded confidence.

Grounded confidence stays with us even as things change. It is not tied to how today went. It shows up when new challenges arise, when the stakes get a little higher, or when things are not going as planned. It is rooted in awareness and perspective, not in performance or achievement.

The Gift

Grounded confidence is what allows a kid to recover, to adjust, and to stay connected to themselves. It is the athlete who can refocus after a turnover, the student who keeps presenting even when the tech glitches, the performer who can laugh off a stumble and keep going. It is confidence that breathes. It says, "This did not go exactly how I wanted, but I can handle it."

The Shadow

Like the other forms of confidence, this one has a shadow too. For grounded confidence, the shadow often shows up as perfectionism or a kind of paralysis. You hear it in kids who say, "I don’t want to mess it up," or "I’m not ready yet," or "What if it doesn’t go right?" They want to be composed, but they start to believe they have to be perfect to even begin. That pressure can make them hesitant to try new things or to do hard things in front of other people.

How to Model and Sustain It

Grounded confidence grows in calm, curious spaces.

Be curious out loud. When something did not go the way they hoped, stay in "let’s understand it" mode and ask questions such as:

• How did that feel?

• What were you trying to do there?

• What changed for you?

Curiosity provides the space and cover for them to look at a moment without judgment.

Point out steadiness when you see it. You do not have to grade their performance. Just notice the composure, and offer:

• "I noticed you working through that situation. What did you discover?"

• "It looked like you took some extra time there. Did that help?"

• "You kept your cool even when it was frustrating. How did that feel?"
  

Kids tune in to what we notice. And what we notice sends strong messages as to what’s important. Normalize hard things. Just because things are hard doesn’t mean they should induce fear. We can normalize struggle by recognizing the effort and resilience it takes to accomplish something difficult. We can suggest:

• "That was a hard thing to do. Tell me a little bit about how you got there."

• "There had to be some uncomfortable moments. How did you manage them?"

• "How did you find the courage to try that?"
  

Providing an opportunity to reflect on their processes helps showcase the effort and courage it takes to attempt hard things. This takes the fear out of not being perfect yet and reframes it as continual work in progress.

What Confidence Really Needs From Us

Looking back, I realize confidence isn't something we hand down or build once. It's something we help shape over time—in the way we respond after a game, in car-ride conversations, in how we handle their frustration, and, honestly, in how we handle our own. That was the throughline in all those years of coaching: kids weren't just learning how to play, they were learning how to believe.

What I've come to see is that most kids (and most adults) will move in and out of these three faces of confidence. Some days they're playing free and fearless. Some days, they're grinding and earning it. Some days, they're just trying to stay steady while everything feels a little bigger than they are. None of those days are "wrong." They're just different moments that need different responses from us.

That's where we come in. Our job isn't to make them confident all the time. Our job is to recognize which version is showing up, notice if the shadow is tagging along, and respond in a way that protects the good stuff. Sometimes that means grounding the naturally bold kid. Sometimes it means reminding the worker that one bad day doesn't erase all the reps. Sometimes it means staying calm so they learn they can be calm too.

So here's a simple invitation: over the next week, watch for confidence. Not just the loud kind. Notice when a kid steps forward, or sticks with something hard, or recovers after things don't go as planned. Name it. Support it. Give it room. Little moments like that are where lifelong confidence is actually built.