We're all searching for something.

A week ago, I finished reading Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's a few years old and I wasn't really interested in reading it until a client suggested a book club of sorts and this was her choice. Five pages into it, I realized this should have been on my to-do list a lot sooner.

The memoir is one woman's search for herself. Without giving it away, she hits her mid-thirties and quits her life to spend an entire year traveling to Italy, India and Indonesia. To explore Pleasure, Meditation and Balance (of the two). Granted, not many people could afford to do this but what I discovered is that her longing for discovering what really matters, for uncovering her true beliefs is very much in line with what so many of us seem to be searching for.

Married in the first portion of the book, she was a reflection of society. Finding someone when she was fairly young, dating, marrying and then buying into suburbia...ultimately setting the stage for kids, PTA and neighborhood grill outs.

It took her weeks of sitting fetal-style on her bathroom floor to realize that this life wasn't really what she wanted. It was suffocating her. And I think we all fall into that trap. We get caught up in the day to day. In the to-do's and deadlines and errands that someone somewhere had told us we should do in order to attain The American Dream. And quite frankly, it's appalling to me.

I too dated non-stop through college and afterward. Finding my husband at the young age of 24. Marrying him a week before I turned 25. Having our first child (oops) the week before I turned 26. And I often find myself getting caught up in the day to day, both with my personal life and career. I try too hard to fit this mold of efficiency only to be disappointed by those around me. Then comes the negativity, stress, and wrinkles. Personally, I get worked up about laundry, dishes, how many diapers are in-stock, potty training, groceries, etc. to really enjoy life. I wish I could flip a switch and just become an I-don't-care-if-you-approve-of-my-household attitude. We'd have way more fun. And I wonder if those lines in my forehead would be less deep?

I'm hoping that as I move deeper into this decade of thirties, that I'm more open to letting go. That I don't feel like I owe it to anyone to continue doing all that I am. That I don't feel the need to push harder or challenge everything. Because at the end of the day, I'm not even sure it matters.

And while I may not ever have the opportunity to spend a year solely figuring out myself and my wants and needs, I can make small revelations that will hopefully lead to a more authentic me.

The search continues.

I took a moment to look up Confidence today. In my handy Thesaurus, it lists: trust, belief, faith, credence, and conviction.

Pretty powerful list of words, huh.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm on an ongoing, no-end-in-sight hunt for self confidence. It's brutal. Been going on for over thirty years. And seriously, I'm getting pretty damn sick of trying to find it. For awhile, I convinced myself that it's all my parent's fault. I wasn't told enough how talented I am. I wasn't praised for my grades or my athletic accomplishments enough.

But I know I was wrong. It's not their fault. So I moved on to telling myself that it comes with age. You grow into a confident person. But at 30, I feel less confident than I did at 21...which, in hindsight, is probably when my esteem peaked. (Must have been those velvet pants and backless shirts. Knew I should have kept those around.)

Anyway, back to today. I have no answers. And I'm pretty sure I just fell 20 feet back down that seemingly steep, razor-sharp rocky mountain that is self confidence.

In the back of my mind is perhaps the biggest question of all: how can I have faith in anything if I can't believe in myself?

When you figure out the answer to that one, someone please let me know...