A Word about Confidence

I've been thinking a lot about confidence lately which may or may not have been triggered by a recurring argument the husband and I have about his fashion choices. Our overplayed ditty goes like this:

Me: I'm not leaving the house with you until you change shirts.
Husband: This shirt looks great.
Me: You look like white trash.
Husband: I look fabulous!

It's only beginning to sink in that he believes this. I've very helpfully explained that this particular shirt negates everything attractive about him, but he insists that his hot bod is enough to counteract the cloak of ugly that this shirt represents.

The shirt in question is old enough to vote, has the sleeves ripped out down to the belly button and proclaims HELL YEAH in 400-point lettering.

The point in question is that perhaps it's better to live in his world.

He has no shortage of confidence and is generally content with himself. I wave to him from the other end of the spectrum and am never content with myself.

Neither of our mindsets seem to alter the outcomes of our lives terribly, so maybe I should just learn to have some confidence in myself as well. It would be nice to not obsess about what people might think about every single thing and whether I'm pleasing everyone I ought to be pleasing.

In school my teachers chastised my parents for being so hard on me, which they assumed from my anxiety over my grades. My parents chastised my teachers for making assumptions. I was hard enough on myself without their help.

So where does one go about finding some of this confidence? I can't imagine it's tucked inside my empty wallet, fat rolls, dirty car, tiny house or ugly-earlobe-havin' ear. Do they sell it at the Stone Cold Steve Austin t-shirt stand?

I think until I find some of my own I'm going to borrow my husband's confidence. We're married and doesn't that mean we're required to share with one another? I'm pretty certain I saw that in the contract somewhere.

There's a fine line between self-assurance and arrogance, but I'm beginning to realize that it's not any more hairline than the crack between humility and low self-esteem. This isn't the nineties. Low self-esteem is kind of passe. And frankly, it's as unattractive as a Stone Cold Steve Austin shirt.