How I Learned to Trust Myself and Lead with Confidence

Through the years, working as a pharmacist and educator I’ve had my share of challenging seasons. One of the hardest realizations I’ve faced is that, as a practicing pharmacist, I’ve never stayed in any one position for longer than two years. Each transition brought anxiety, self-doubt, and fears of the unknown—fears amplified by working under leaders who didn’t support my development or respect my experience. These moments shook my confidence as a practitioner and left me questioning my trust in both myself and others. So, as I come up on a year and a half in my current position, I have many mixed feelings.

One particularly jarring experience was losing my first job. First, I don’t feel like people talk about things like this. They especially don’t prepare you for it in school. But, leading up to that moment, my immediate supervisor often praised my contributions and acknowledged the value I brought to the team. But as I navigated concerns about our leadership dynamic, I noticed cracks in the foundation of that relationship. For instance, I voiced concerns about only working 2-4 hours per week with support staff and how it affected the team dynamic. I tried to address these issues in good faith, assuming that open communication would strengthen our relationship.

When I later reached out to that same supervisor for a letter of recommendation for a new position, her response blindsided me. Not only did she refuse, but her letter painted a negative picture of my performance—citing issues that had never been raised in any of our meetings. I felt gaslit, delusional even, wondering if I’d imagined her prior praise. Worse, I no longer trusted myself to be self-reflective. How could I grow as a professional if I couldn’t trust leadership to give me honest feedback?

For years, I carried the weight of those doubts, replaying the events in my mind and questioning my ability to move forward. But my last position—an academic fellowship—was transformative. I was fortunate to work under leaders whose supportive and hands-off styles were foreign to me. They trusted me to do my job without micromanagement. At first, this trust felt unnatural. I even found myself mentally preparing for the worst, on multiple occasions—for the day they might decide I wasn’t good enough.

But something shifted. Through self-reflection and the guidance of a mentor, I began to trust myself again. My mentor encouraged me to evaluate my own productivity, recognize my growth in skills, and analyze my stress levels when faced with recurring challenges. Over time, I began to that I was growing in ways I hadn’t acknowledged. For example, prior to starting my fellowship I had never presented a poster, written an abstract, or published a paper. During that experience, I joined two research teams, wrote several abstracts, presented two posters and started multiple manuscripts. Since then I have published 5 of those manuscripts and even began mentoring as student through her own research!

• 

The most transformative part of this process was letting go of my need to please everyone. With less concern about what others thought, I became more productive and started completing projects without the paralyzing grip of perfectionism. Lowering my impossibly high standards didn’t mean settling for mediocrity; it meant finishing meaningful work on time and finding joy in the process. My mentor shared an invaluable lesson: every professional’s journey looks different. “Comparison is the thief of joy,” she reminded me. “If you constantly compare yourself to someone whose experiences and circumstances are vastly different, you’ll never be happy with your own progress.” This advice has helped me embrace my own path without measuring it against others.

One tool that changed the way I approach hard seasons is the book “The Perfectionist’s Guide to Losing Control by Katherine Morgan Schafler. It helped me identify struggles rooted in perfectionism and discover strategies to overcome procrastination. I have read “self-help” books before, but I have never felt so seen and connected. Now, I keep a journal to track tasks, noting what worked well and what hindered my progress. These small habits have empowered me to navigate challenges with clarity and intention.

Growth isn’t linear, and it’s not always comfortable. For me, it took open communication, self-reflection, and trusting leaders who challenged me to trust myself. If you’re facing a hard season, know this: progress is personal. Embrace the discomfort, seek guidance, and take time to reflect on your growth. You might just find that the hardest seasons can lead to the most empowering transformations.

Keep Seeking,

T’Bony