A quiet self-assuredness; a relaxed countenance; a sense of contentment; a deliberateness of speech and action; a spontaneous graciousness; and a brilliant aura that radiates peace and wellbeing — all this is the mark of a confident man. He is not loud, argumentative, overbearing, brash, nor boastful. He doesn’t preen, grandstand, nor gloat — never!
In fact, he is so hard to find that I am oftentimes convinced he doesn’t exist at all. Coming across a truly confident man in this postmodern world is as difficult as finding Waldo (the character in the illustrated book series Where’s Waldo) in a sea of humanity. In this age of hyper-technological advancement, where most human contact has become virtual and social graces have all but disappeared, where personalities are mostly cultivated online and relationships nurtured via cell sites or satellite, a face-to-face meeting most often flat-out disappoints.
You are confronted with either of these scenarios: a man with the personality and dynamism of a cardboard or someone who is a cross between Tony Soprano on a bad day and Jack Black’s character in School of Rock. Go find the lesser evil.
One of the brightest men I have come across within the past year (let’s call him A.M., 49 years old and confident in the truest sense of the word) told me once that “a confident man is like a fine piece of machinery — intricately engineered, sophisticated in function, comprised of many different parts that work independently of each other, sometimes in opposing ends and rhythm, and who functions with a singularity of purpose and infallible precision.”
“Say what?” I said, needing him to run that by me once more and slowly. It is quite a feat, keeping up with the workings of a brilliant mind.
“Just like I said,” he explained. “A truly confident man is like a car or, say, a watch, with its various parts working in extreme efficiency to propel it for what it was designed to do. A man has his work, his family, his friends, his hobbies, his sports, his passions, his dreams, which, in perfect balance, make up the person he really is.
“And that is where true confidence stems from,” he continued, “from his ability to strike a balance among all these elements. It is difficult. It takes mastery of the mind above all else to achieve this. Because, you know, follies, instinct, and desire for immediate gratification take a lot to contain. Now, if there is a lack or excess of something somewhere, boastfulness or some sort of personality disorder sets in to compensate.”
“So confidence comes from temperance, you mean?” I asked. “Yes,” he said, “And much more.”
“What else?”
“Maturity and a coming to terms with the ego,” he explained further.
“What? You’re saying we have to wait until men evolve into centennial beings before they turn into confident, debonair, irresistible hunks? Sure we want them confident but do we want them toothless and benign? Way too late, man!” I sort of panicked because, in my opinion, the most confident, most well-mannered, most charming of men are well way into their 60s, when they already are who they are going to be; when they have become comfortable in their own skin; when they have exorcised their mid-life demons; when they are done experimenting with fads and trends; when they have stopped caring about impressing the world at large; when they have tamed their ego; when they have sharpened their sense of humor; when they have seen the world, seen the ugliness and the suffering in it and have become appreciative and grateful for what they have. This is when they are fun, charming, wise, and infinitely sexy.
“I understand,” he humored me. “It does take a long time for some men to come into their own. But you might be surprised. There are many who evolve quite early in life. Finding confidence doesn’t only come with age; it also comes from discernment, from knowing when to tip the balance of all the elements in their lives one way or the other when needed. I’m not saying confident men are these cautious, holier-than-thou straight arrows. On the contrary, they can be child-like, playful, mischievous and daring adventurers who know how to party but buckle down to work just as dutifully and intently.”
“Really?” I was intrigued. “They have mistresses?”
“Ha, ha!” he chuckled. “Some, but then if they did, no one would know. They’re discreet.”
This miffed me so I said, “And their wives? What of them?”
“They’re well taken care of, emotionally and otherwise” was all he was willing to give away in this issue no matter how hard I badgered him for juicier stuff. “Again,” he continued, “it’s all about balance: about everything in one man’s personality coming together to function as one whole.”
“You’re talking about men being compartmentalized, like the cliché says,” I said, wanting to give some indication that I wasn’t all that dense.
“Um, not really, because the word compartmentalized conveys the image of neat cubbyholes where one can file away chunks of his life and segregate them from everything else. But just like the machine metaphor I used, the individual parts work together. They are mutually dependent on each other to some degree in order to fulfill a function. If one part breaks or slows down there will be a ripple effect.”
“Can you please give me a concrete example?” He had me interested; I wanted to pick his brain some more. “Okay, here,” he said with his characteristic patience and indulgence. “In social situations, a confident man will not slug it out verbally in argument with others. He will say his piece firmly and stop there because he knows he is right. And he always definitely is, because he has systematic thought processes. He has already worked it out before he even ventures to speak. He is not out to embarrass anyone, least of all himself. He won’t be a boor and bulldoze his way through. In the workplace, well, that’s another story. That’s his kingdom and there he shall reign.”
“Oh, so he lets others get their way to keep the peace.”
“No. Not at all. He gets his way — always. He makes sure,” he countered with a wink.
“And what if he were wrong. You know: that tiny, microscopic, minute chance that he just might be inaccurate?”
“Then he apologizes like a gentleman and moves on.”
“What else is a confident man like; what else does he do?”
“He works hard. He holds the respect of people he works with because he has earned it. He provides for his family. He treats women with gentleness and he loves them well. He is an excellent father. He says thank you. He says sorry. He never forgets to bring something for the host when invited to dinner. He introduces himself even to complete strangers at parties. He makes everyone feel comfortable in his presence. He offers to foot the bill when out with friends and actually means it, if not altogether paying for it without fanfare. He never lets a woman he is romantically involved with pay when they are out. He never speaks ill of others. He never talks about himself; never aggrandizes himself. He never hogs the conversation. He never circumvents the law. For example: he will not obtain a driver’s license by falsifying his age. He does not do anything corrupt or illegal and if he does, he never gets caught.” My friend chuckled heartily after he had said that last line.
“Look,” he added, “the bottom line is that he’s a happy man. There: a confident man is a happy man.”
“But he has mistresses,” I mumbled under my breath.
He flashed me the most disarming of smiles and said, “You won’t let that go, will you?”
“Not for all the confidence in the world!” I answered while flashing him an even bigger smile.
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Thank you for your letters. You may reach me at cecilelilles@yahoo.com or visit my blog at www.fourtyfied.blogspot.com