January 25, 2021

Confidence in the Car

By Bebe Deen

As renowned author H. Jackson Brown Jr. once said: “our character is what we do when we think no one is looking.” For me, that has always meant singing. Whenever I am alone, I always catch myself subconsciously singing a random melody that is stuck in my head. Nothing feels more euphoric than belting at the top of my lungs driving 65 in a 50. 

Cruising down the highway in the comfort of my car, I know that I could never bring myself to sing in front of a crowd. However, something changes when I’m alone –  I feel no pressure and have no thoughts, especially when the volume is at its maximum. Driving around while singing has served as my escape. Whenever I’m stressed and need to blow off some steam, I perform concerts in my car, free from criticism and embarrassment. This beautiful sense of freedom reminds me of how children use their imaginations to create their own fantasy worlds. Singing alone is the closest thing I have to preserving my childhood imagination– it is my safe space.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines a safe space as a place “intended to be free of bias, conflict, criticism, or potentially threatening actions, ideas, or conversations.” The sense of comfort that comes with my safe space allows me to be confident: what I aspire to be around others, not just when I’m alone. Finding a “safe space” is different for everyone, but holds the same purpose.

I have struggled with confidence, not just in my early adulthood, but ever since I was little. This began when I repeatedly faced the question, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” My young self could never verbally express what I truly wanted to be, in fear of someone ridiculing me for aiming too high. I would always make up an obtainable answer, pretending I wanted to be a vet, for example. I was so afraid to give the wrong answer to a question that has no wrong answer. In reality, I wanted to scream out: “I want to be the president of the United States!” But what if I never became president? I grew up nitpicking everything I did until I went insane. I set the bar low enough for myself so that no one would be disappointed in me. 

When I am alone, there are no expectations. I have always loved to sing, but I’ve never felt comfortable enough to burst out into song in front of others. My thoughts spiral: what if they think my voice is terrible? What if I’m not good enough? 

Growing up, we are constantly told to be ourselves, but what if my greatest fear is not being good enough? How am I supposed to cope with the paralyzing fear of rejection? This is where my safe space becomes essential. My car holds the same beauty as a sunrise does, epitomizing the beginning of a new day full of hope. It serves as an outlet needed to take a breath, belt a song, and persevere. Alone in my car, I am singing to a sold-out crowd at Madison Square Garden, and there is no one there to tell me otherwise. It doesn’t matter if I blow past my turn or miss my exit while singing my repertoire, because at that moment, I am free from every doubt in my mind. I can be exactly what I have always wanted to be: confident.