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I was 13. I had learned how to drive a car that summer. Manual transmission/stick shift of course. Automatic was a luxury and for sissies. So I knew how to drive, barely. It was first snow of the winter. Dad grabs the keys and says “Let’s go. You need to learn how to drive on snow.”

“What?” I hardly knew how to drive without lurching the car forward. And who can forget the afternoon I backed up traffic on the hill? I was still getting the hang of the clutch release and close to 20 cars lined up behind me as I proceeded to kill the engine over and over again, stalling repeatedly. The pressure was intense and so embarrassing for a teenager. But, you didn’t get to tell my dad no.

I was so nervous. Our gravel driveway was long and lined by a fence that divided our drive from the neighbors. We lived out in the country on a gravel road next to a farmstead. Our house was not a farm, and neither were the other few houses on the road. Dad gets me going by saying “Just drive like you normally would, only a bit slower.”

“OK. Sure.” The snow was sparkling silver underneath the headlight path. The wheels spin on the freshly laid snow. I can feel the car slipping and sliding, so I give it more gas to get her going. Took off we did! Shot right out of the driveway, fishtailing and sliding. Bam! Shot myself right into the ditch on the other side of our road, just missing a telephone pole. Nearly crashing the family car I know they could barely afford. The only good thing I could see was at least not hitting the pole. I couldn’t imagine much worse an outcome that the one I just produced.

Dad gets out of the car and tells me to get out. I can tell he’s frustrated and doubting this exercise in faith. He goes to the neighbor’s farm to ask him to pull us out with his tractor. I go inside the house to try to stay out of the way and tend to my wounded pride. I watch them work, looking out the front window. Mom doesn’t say much other than “It’ll be ok honey.” I can tell though that this was a worry to them both over if the car would need any work.

After the tractor pulls the car out dad parks it back in the drive and comes inside.

Then something amazing happened. Dad says, “Come on, let’s go. Car’s running. You need to get back in there and try it again.”

“What? Now? You want me to drive now, after I just landed my first try in the ditch 20 yards away?”

“Yep. You have to get back in there and do it or you will hold onto your fear. You have to do it right now. No waiting.”

God, was I nervous. More nervous than the first time. But I felt something else too. Determination. Courage. And I felt the faith my dad had in me that I could do this. If he believed in me maybe I could too. How could he believe in me when I had failed so big?

I didn’t know that night it was a life lesson in the making, but now I do. I thought of this moment recently as I’ve been reading the book The Confidence Code. The basis of the book is the role confidence plays in our success in life. As girls and women we do not have the same levels of confidence as men generally do. This is for many reasons. Societal upbringing, social norms, brain biology and hormones. But the key message in the book is that the lack of confidence although real is 100% unfounded. Women are as competent as men and in some situations even more competent. A lack of confidence does not in any way equate to a lack of competence. We tend to stand in our own way out of pure fabricated story telling and fear.

Closely related to the theme of confidence and how we obtain confidence is failure and how we view it. Think of Confidence as one side of the coin with Failure as the backside. Confidence shows up more easily when failure is seen as a possibility. Perfection is brick wall to confidence. If we wait to move forward until we’re perfect we will never take action. But when we embrace failure as a learning tool instead of the end of the line, our confidence is compelled to show up. If we fail and don’t pick ourselves up off the floor to go after it again or dig ourselves out of the snowy ditch to take off again then yes failure is the end of the line. But when we view failures as a necessary steps towards learning and growth we can show up as more authentic and genuine in who we are. We can grow our abilities and show confidence that no matter how many missteps we will eventually achieve what we came here to do.

If I had one piece of advice to young women and girls it would be face your fear and do it anyway. Fail fast. Fail often. Fail brave. See it as your fastest path to lasting success. Do not wait until you are feeling 100% ready. You will never feel ready. Prepare yes, and then just dig in and go for it. Take risks. And when you fall down, get back up with more determination and courage and resolve than before. Repeat as often as necessary. Confidence comes with trust in yourself. Trust that you can handle anything that comes your way because you’ve already broken through all the walls you had constructed falsely for yourself.

I’ve failed many times in my life. My biggest failures were absolutely my most efficient teachers. I can look back now and feel gratitude for each and every lesson no matter how painful at the time.

I guess Dad knew what he was doing all along.