I remember a few years ago, I stood at the edge of a swimming pool, heart in my throat, watching my youngest son take on his first attempt to swim its entire length.
His instructor had called him forward, and there he was, small goggles fogging up, arms churning with nervous energy.
Yes, he knew how to swim already, but never at that length. And when he finally jumped in, he thrashed through the water, legs kicking furiously, his face a mix of determination and strain. I gripped the railing, silently urging him on. He reached the other end, weary and gasping, but he made it.
As he clung to the pool’s edge, I saw the instructor crouched down next to him, and said something while he nodded. In the car on our way home, I asked him what the instructor had told him. He said, “Coach cakap saya okay (said I was okay). Tapi next time dia suruh relax sikit lagi (But in the future he told me to relax a little). Move with the water, jangan lawan dia (don’t fight it).”
Those words hit me as hard as they did him. Relaxation, not force, was the key to better movement.
And life’s a lot like that. We think confidence comes from gripping tighter, from forcing every outcome to bend to our will. But what if trying less hard actually makes us more capable?
I learnt this lesson the hard way during my first year as the principal of a residential college at Universiti Malaya in 2014. I was invited to give a welcome speech at the college’s annual dinner, a room full of students, staff, and alumni waiting to hear from the new guy. I wanted to nail it – prove I belonged in the role. I spent days scripting every word, rehearsing in front of my bathroom mirror, tweaking pauses for maximum impact.
By the time I stepped to the podium, I was a bundle of nerves, second-guessing every syllable. Halfway through, I stumbled over a line, my mind blanking. The room stayed polite, but I felt like I’d sunk to the bottom of the pool.
Later, a student approached me, smiling. “Prof, your speech was real. That stumble made us like you more.” I was stunned. My obsessive need to control the moment hadn’t made me shine – it had weighed me down. Confidence, I realised, wasn’t about perfection; it was about trusting I’d be okay, even if I wobbled.
Performance psychology backs this up. Studies show that athletes, musicians, and public speakers often falter when they over-effort. A tennis player who grips the racket too tightly misses the shot. A pianist who obsesses over every note stumbles.
The best performances come when they trust their training, letting muscle memory and instinct take over. The same applies to life. Confidence doesn’t come from forcing outcomes – it grows from trusting your preparation and your ability to adapt, no matter what comes.
The poet Rumi once wrote, “Beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” Confidence lives in that field, beyond the need to prove or perfect. It’s the quiet assurance that you’ve done the work, that you can roll with the punches.
But our world doesn’t make this easy. We’re bombarded with pressure to perform – ace the exam, land the job, dazzle the crowd. We equate confidence with certainty, with knowing every answer before the question’s asked. Yet true confidence is softer, more fluid. It’s knowing you’ll find a way, even when the path isn’t clear.
So, how do we cultivate this kind of confidence? It starts with letting go. Trust the hours you’ve put in – whether it’s studying, practising, or simply living. Stop micromanaging every step and give yourself permission to breathe.
When you feel the urge to force an outcome, pause. Ask: Am I swimming with the current, or against it? Then, lean into adaptability. A stumble isn’t failure – it’s a chance to show you can recover.
Here’s my challenge: For one week, pick a moment each day where you’re tempted to over-control – a meeting, a task, a conversation.
Instead of gripping tightly, relax your hold. Trust your preparation, your instincts, your ability to handle whatever comes. Jot down how it feels. You might find that letting go doesn’t sink you – it sets you free.
Life’s not about forcing every moment to be perfect. It’s about moving with the flow, like a swimmer who trusts their strokes. Confidence isn’t about knowing everything – it’s about knowing you’ll figure it out.
So, the next time you’re tempted to thrash through the water, take a breath. Relax.
The current will carry you farther than you think.
