Which path will you choose?

The MC’s voice boomed through the speakers. "Next up—Sally!"

Backstage, Sally sat frozen. Her teammates whispered encouragement, but she couldn’t hear them. Tears streaked her ruined makeup. Her wig lay forgotten on the floor. Three months of preparation—about to go to waste.

Stage fright. She had smashed her routine in practice, wowing her teammates and coaches, dress rehearsal was great, her debut performance was set to be a triumph. But when the moment came and she heard the crowd from backstage, she froze. Panic set in and fear took over. All the little doubts and fears she had inside her had become huge hideous beasts, every negative comment she had received growing up, had also grown up, magnified and monstrous inside her mind. Fear gripped her body. Her hands shook. Her heart pounded like a war drum. She gasped for breath, but it wouldn't come. Now you might think this is going to be a story of triumph and she got up and won the competition but no, this is not that.

Sally got up, on very shaky legs, and walked onto stage with the help of her coach, she adopted her start position still crying, sans wig, make up smeared across her face.

The music started. Then stopped. Started again.

Sally stood motionless, tears still falling.

The third time, she moved—her body stiff, mechanical, nothing like the performer she knew she could be.

The routine ended. Silence. Then an awkward, scattered applause as she cried her way off stage.? Her performance earnt her last place in her section and a lovely participation award.

That night, Sally lay awake, staring at the framed participation award. It felt like a joke. Proof of failure.

A reminder of everything that had gone wrong.

She thought about quitting.

But something inside her whispered: Not this time.

She was at a crossroads. Let this moment define her—or rewrite the story.

She turned up to class the following week and continued to practice. Continued to smash it at training, amazing her teammates and coaches every week. Sally wrote the date of the next competition on her bedroom mirror and crossed off the days as it approached, she would look at the date and close her eyes taking herself back to the moment backstage and revisit those feelings of doubt and fear. Feelings she knew she had overcome. She reframed those feelings with positive affirmations spoken out loud. When the day finally rolled around, no one said it out loud—but everyone was thinking the same thing. Would Sally choke again? The elephant in the room loomed large. The night came and Sally was called on stage. The butterflies were still there, her hands still shook, she even shed a couple nervous little tears. But as she sat backstage she leant into the fear and repeated her affirmations.

Sally took a deep breath.

She stepped onto stage-alone. No helping hand. No hesitation.

The music started.

And this time-so did she.

She was still shaky, far from her best—but she got through it. This time Sally received third place, out of 4 in her division. Not a triumph but not a collapse.

The fear hasn’t gone away, but Sally’s confidence has grown every time she faces it. Sally won her next competition. She still gets the nerves, butterflies, still shakes a bit. But she has learnt to take that nervous energy and channel it into her performance, use that energy as fuel. That strength Sally found shows up all over Sally’s life, she finds it when she has to have challenging conversations, she uses it when she needs to set boundaries, she is emboldened by it when meeting new people. No one else notices these little wins, but Sally does, Sally knows what it took to get here and Sally knows she kicks arse.

That framed participation award hangs on her wall. The tear stains are still there. The smudged ink hasn’t faded. Every morning, she looks at it and smiles. It doesn’t remind her of failure. It reminds her that she got back up.

I know this story well—because Sally is my daughter. And every time I see that framed award hanging on her wall, I don’t see failure. I see courage. I see resilience. I see a warrior- one who will never be ruled by fear again.

PS. Sally is not her real name.