I’ve been thinking about Donald Trump lately.
Not his politics.
Not his policies.
Not his hair.
Not his bitcoin.
No.
I’ve been thinking about his confidence.
Actually… Confidence isn’t even the right word. It’s something bigger than that. It’s the remarkable freedom of a person who appears completely unconstrained by yesterday’s version of himself. He doesn’t seem burdened by consistency. He doesn’t wake up wondering whether his latest idea aligns with something he said three years ago. He simply has an idea. Then he says it. Then, if he has a different idea tomorrow…. He says that too. I have to admit, there’s something strangely liberating about that.
Meanwhile, I can’t decide what to order at a restaurant without considering whether I’ll regret it halfway through the meal. I’ve spent twenty minutes rewriting a text message. I’ve edited blog posts after they were already published because I thought of one sentence that sounded better. I’ve held full committee meetings inside my own head over decisions that, in hindsight, probably deserved about thirty seconds of consideration.
Donald Trump, on the other hand, seems to wake up and think… “I think I’ll make myself president of Venezuela,” and then posts the artwork to make it official. And somehow that becomes a conversation the rest of us have to participate in. It’s incredible. Not necessarily good. Just… incredible. Imagine having that level of certainty. Not certainty that you’re right. Certainty that being wrong simply isn’t enough of a reason to stop talking.
Imagine announcing every idea with the confidence of someone introducing the cure for cancer.
“This is the greatest idea anyone has ever had.”
“I just thought of it twelve seconds ago.”
“I will not be taking questions.”
I don’t know what that’s like. I’ve built an entire life on anticipating questions before they’re asked. Maybe that’s the accountant in me. Maybe it’s the woman in me. Maybe it’s just my personality. Whatever the reason, I’ve always assumed every opinion should be examined from every possible angle before it’s released into the world. Donald Trump appears to operate under a different philosophy.
Think.
Speak.
Repeat.
If necessary, contradict yourself.
Continue anyway.
There is an undeniable efficiency to it. No overthinking. No second-guessing. No committee meetings. No endless revisions. Just the absolute certainty that whatever thought entered your brain five seconds ago deserves immediate implementation. That has to save an extraordinary amount of time. Would I actually want to live like that? Probably not. Consistency still matters. Facts still matter. Humility still matters. Changing your mind should require more than simply waking up.
But… I wouldn’t mind borrowing about ten percent of that confidence. Just enough to hit “Publish” instead of rereading something for the eighth time. Just enough to make the phone call instead of rehearsing it for two days. Just enough to stop assuming every decision deserves a risk assessment worthy of NASA.
I don’t want his politics.
I don’t want his hair.
I don’t want his tan.
I’d at least hear him out on the money…
I just want the kind of confidence that has never once been interrupted by self-awareness. I suspect the sweet spot is somewhere between the two of us. Not enough confidence to host a cage fight on the White House lawn, but enough confidence to stop asking permission from a committee that exists only inside my own head.
🏆 Charlotte