I started a new job two months ago, and it’s been a bit of a roller coaster since. Starting a new job is always challenging — there’s new business strategy to learn, new product to familiarize yourself with, new colleagues to meet, new processes to adopt, and the list goes on. And it’s not like everyone around you is new too so you’re all on an equal playing field; no, you’re like the unlucky new kid who transferred schools mid-year!

If you’ve ever changed jobs, you know what I’m talking about, right?

So it’s safe to say that over the past couple months, I’ve been adjusting. And while it’s not the first time I’ve changed jobs, this time it’s felt different — harder. For one, it’s in a function that’s very new to me and I’m still learning how to do. In addition, for the first time I’m surrounded by people who are more educated than me, and have stronger brand names on their resumes than me — while it’s not a competition, it’s fair to say it’s a little intimidating! And finally, the product I work on is incredibly complex (it’s true, even my boss says so), and it all but melts my brain on a daily basis trying to unravel what it is we’re working on.

Naturally, it’s a transition. But in the midst of this transition, one struggle has become a bigger stumbling block than any of the previous factors — a struggle with confidence.

Actually this is not new; it’s something I’ve been grappling with for the last few years. The key realization I’ve had, in the midst of this struggle, is how much my confidence is tied to my mom. Losing her has shattered so many things, and one of those is my confidence. Day-to-day situations that I wouldn’t have thought twice about in the past — meeting a group of new people, asking a question in a meeting — have become frustratingly difficult and anxiety-inducing.

Tricky for me, my new job puts me in these situations on a very frequent basis. A couple weeks ago, I was in a large team meeting and in the lead-up to my one-minute update, my heart was pounding so hard I started to feel lightheaded and thought I was going to have to leave the room! (Fortunately I didn’t have to do this, but it was a frustrating experience still.)

In addition to the normal friction that comes with starting a new job, challenges like this at work have heightened my awareness of the confidence issues I now face, and it’s been something more so on my mind than before.

I don’t know how or when my confidence became so inextricably tied to my mom, but what I do know is that it did — and still is.

When thinking about writing this post, I kicked off my brainstorm in the way I usually do (usually, a memory or feeling comes to me and sparks an idea for a theme, and then I think about some examples or stories to support it). But quickly I realized this theme feels different.

Yes, there are a thousand things my mom did that instilled confidence in me — for instance, praying fervently and regularly for me, offering me encouragement and compassion during my struggles, writing me meaningful cards on my birthday and other occasions that emphasized the promise of my future, holding me to high standards and telling me when she didn’t feel I was meeting them.

Today though, what I feel compelled to write about is not these specific examples; rather, how she made me feel. The intangible manifestation of her tangible actions — my feeling so loved that it blossomed into a natural confidence. A confidence I didn’t even realize I had.

It’s only now that it’s gone that I recognize just how present it was before. I think when you feel that loved and supported, it just frees you. You become a better and more capable version of yourself. You expect more out of yourself. You get on a path you never could’ve found on your own. And like me, you may not even realize this is happening.

Looking back on it, I now I see had:

• The confidence to assert I wanted to return to York for full-time schooling, when it was the crazy thing to do.
• The confidence to start a new and independent life in London, far from the support of my family.
• The confidence to try out new and foreign activities, like cheerleading in middle school or ultimate frisbee in college (I was a disaster, mind you, and promptly quit. But I tried!).
• The confidence to act out of conviction of my own beliefs and desires.

Much of this, I know, was borne out of my mom’s love for me. She believed in me and trusted in the person I was growing into. And along the way, I naturally came to believe in myself.

Today though, it’s harder. I struggle with the confidence that used to be an innate part of me. I regularly question whether I can still take on the once effortless exercises that are now daily challenges. I also question whether I even desire for my life or career trajectory to what I once wanted to be. And I know these will be ongoing struggles.

I share these sentiments not to ask for encouragement from those of you reading this — on the contrary, I would specifically ask not for this at this time.

Rather, I share to highlight how special and blessed I am to be in this position of realization today. That for every day of the 25 years of my life I shared with my mom, I know she was building up confidence in me to help me realize my capabilities and tackle the world. A confidence I don’t really even know how to describe in words and have struggled for days to capture in this post. It was a quiet confidence that grew out of love.

And today, while much of this is lost, I have the love and support of the rest of my family — with my mom as a central inspiration — to help me build up again. It will be different, incomplete, but together we’ll build on the foundations she set that nothing — not even physical separation — can take away.