What a Networking Event Taught Me About Confidence

A few weeks ago, I attended a networking event in Bangkok. The venue was a beautiful hotel along the river—elegant, modern, and the kind of place that makes you feel as though you've stepped into another world. Bangkok has so many places like that, each with its own atmosphere and personality.

The event was focused on housing support in Thailand. I was excited to attend, and admittedly, I enjoyed the opportunity to dress up for the occasion. There was a sense of exclusivity about the venue that made me think, "This is not the kind of event I usually attend." Not because I didn't belong there, but because it was simply different from environments I typically find myself in.

Most of the women attending were Caucasian. With my Bantu knots, coffee-colored skin, peach-pink dress, and nearly six-foot frame, I was certainly noticeable. Years ago, I might have felt intimidated. This time, I didn't.

Life has given me enough experiences to understand that being different isn't something to fear. It's simply part of being human.

Like many networking events, there was plenty of small talk. People wanted to know who I was and what I did. One woman remarked that people in Bangkok often judge others by what they have. I nodded. There may be some truth to that observation, but it wasn't what interested me most about the experience.

What I noticed was myself.

I was calm.

I was comfortable.

I was present.

That felt good.

Being in unfamiliar rooms with unfamiliar people is practice for the nervous system. It's an opportunity to notice curiosity, uncertainty, intrigue, and wonder without needing to act on any of it. These may not have been "my people," but they were people I would never have met otherwise.

I've noticed that many of us naturally gravitate toward people who look like us, think like us, and share similar backgrounds. There's comfort in familiarity. But I've always felt most alive in diverse environments—spaces filled with different cultures, languages, perspectives, and experiences. When that variety is missing, something feels absent for me.

The greatest lesson from the evening was about confidence.

Confidence isn't a feeling that arrives before action. It's something we practice in real time. It's showing up, being present, and allowing ourselves to be seen without needing to perform or prove anything.

I realized that I wasn't concerned with whether people in the room liked me. The conditioning I carried into spaces like this used to whisper, "Make sure they accept you."

This time, a different thought emerged:

Do I accept myself?

That was the only question that mattered.

As long as I show up with kindness, respect, and authenticity, I've done my part. What others think is beyond my control.

So much of life is spent wondering whether we're enough.

Successful enough.

Interesting enough.

Accomplished enough.

Accepted enough.

But perhaps enough is much simpler than we think.

Being present is enough.

Allowing life to unfold naturally is enough.

Being myself is enough.