Ashley Tyler’s Guide to Self-Confidence [TG] - Prologue

Commissioned by George Washington

Got problems with anxiety and self-confidence? Fear not! Ashley Tyler’s audio course will help you work through them and become the woman you were always meant to be! Please note: men who listen may experience unforeseen side effects. 

Prologue

Caleb had spent all morning preparing. He didn’t tell anyone, of course. No one to tell. But to him, it was a big day; bigger than birthdays, bigger than holidays. Today, he was going to do something simple that felt monumental. He was going to go down the street to the cafe and order coffee. In person.

To most people, it was an act that required no brain power. People did it every day without even thinking, but to Caleb, it required meticulous planning. He picked out a plain navy sweater and jeans; not too flashy, but not rough enough to draw the eye. He’d wiped down his sneakers and made sure the lacers weren’t too long. They had to be clean. If his shoes were dirty, people might look at them. If they looked at them, they might look at him.

He’d even trimmed his beard. Not because it was long, he kept it neat anyway, but because he didn’t want to give anyone a reason to judge him. His hair was combed precisely, parted slightly to one side, not a strand out of place. Deodorant, subtle cologne, breath mint. He was, he hoped, unremarkably well-kept and forgettable. 

By the time he reached the coffee shop, his pulse was already fast. He took a deep breath, pulled the door open and stepped inside. The smell hit him first, roasted beans, sweet syrups, the faint musk of spices. The place was busy. Not packed, but full enough that he felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck. 

Immediately, his mind kicked into gear, spotting every potential embarrassing situation: he could slip over and fall on his ass, or drop his drink, or walk into somebody and make them spill their drink. Then all the people in this room would go to their friends and job and go ‘you won’t believe what happened at the coffee shop this morning, some loser didn’t look where he was going’. He’d be on everybody’s lips. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

No. Caleb curled his hands into fists. He was done being scared. He’d been told the only way to beat anxiety was to power through. He joined the line.

Five people ahead of him. He kept his eyes fixed on the menu board. Medium vanilla latte. He repeated it in his head like a mantra. Medium vanilla latte. Medium vanilla latte. Not a difficult phrase. Four words. He didn’t even like coffee that much, but he’d picked something mild. Vanilla felt safe.

Two people ahead now.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly aware of his arms. What were they doing? Hanging? Too stiff? He folded them, then unfolded them again. His fingers tapped nervously against his thigh. Stop that. Normal people don’t twitch like they’re malfunctioning.

His turn. He stepped forward, clearing his throat softly. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice a little high, but not shaky. “Can I get a medium vanilla latte, please?”

It came out clean. No stammer. No mumble. Four perfect words. Victory sparked in his chest for a half second. Then the barista smiled kindly and said: 

“I’m so sorry, we’re out of vanilla syrup.”

Caleb froze.

“Oh,” he said, small and flat.

His mind went blank. The background hum of the shop grew louder: the hiss of the espresso machine, the rattle of cups, the rising pressure of people waiting behind him. He didn’t look, but he felt them. 

“Uh,” he tried, his eyes flicking back to the menu. But the letters swam. Caramel? Hazelnut? Mocha? He couldn’t tell what he wanted. The neat script on the chalkboard might as well have been ancient runes.

“Do you, um… maybe… what’s good?” he asked, too late realising how stupid that sounded. The people behind him shifted. One cleared their throat sharply. Someone exhaled, loud and long. He could feel them looking at the back of his neck. The barista smiled again, still patient, but Caleb’s brain was short-circuiting. He had to say something.

His eyes darted to a special on the counter: “Lavender Oat Milk Cortado $7.25.” A drink he knew he wouldn’t like. He hated lavender. Hated oat milk, too.

“I’ll, uh… have the lavender oat cortado,” he said.

“Sure thing,” the barista said, tapping it in. “That’ll be $7.25.”

Caleb nodded, already fishing in his wallet. He had prepared this part too. A ten-dollar bill, folded neatly. Except—it wasn’t there. His fingers grasped for it. Panic surged. He unfolded every compartment. There was a five. Two ones. A handful of coins that didn’t add up.

His heart thudded. He checked his back pocket. Nothing.

“I… I must’ve left my card,” he said, voice barely audible. “I… don’t have enough. I’m sorry. I can’t…”

The barista gave a sympathetic nod.

 “That’s okay,” she said, but behind Caleb, someone muttered, “Seriously?” and another sighed.

He turned, eyes to the floor, hands clenching the useless cash in his fist. 

“I’m really sorry.”

Then he walked out.

He didn’t run. He wanted to. But he walked, slowly, stiffly, past the window, past the dry cleaner, past everything. His face burned. The lump in his throat felt unbearable. He made it halfway down the block before he let himself exhale. That had been a disaster. And what made it worse, it was nothing. It wasn’t a big meeting, or a job interview, or messing up a first date. It was ordering coffee at a cafe. For God’s sake, people did that every day! How was he supposed to get the big moments in life right if he couldn’t even handle the small ones? 

Out of habit, Caleb reached behind his head for his hoodie to hide his face. Instead, his fingers grasped at empty air. Oh yeah, he hadn’t grabbed it this morning; he’d been so confident and sure he could handle things without hiding himself away. What a joke that turned out to be. 

“Hey, you! Yes, you!”

The voice made him jump halfway out of his skin. Caleb felt his face flush and he immediately looked around, trying to figure out what exactly he’d done to draw any attention to himself. Then he realised the voice hadn’t come from a person, but a TV sitting in the storefront window. A woman with bright eyes and a wide smile waved at him through the screen.

“Are you tired of people walking all over you? Tired of that voice in your head that makes you doubt every little thing you do? Well, worry no more! Ashley Tyler’s Self-Confidence Makeover is here to help!”

A square with another copy of the woman’s smiling face spun onto the screen dramatically, alongside a flashy set of shooting stars.

“With my audio course, you’ll be the woman you were always meant to be, smart, confident and ready to take on the world.”

Caleb watched the ad repeat twice more, but was only half listening. It had all the hallmarks of those shitty infomercials that only existed to trick suckers into buying expensive products they don’t really need. And yet…he was drawn to it. He’d tried everything to boost his self-confidence and become less awkward; all the advice online said fake it till you make it, but he couldn’t even fake it. Maybe an audio course was worth a try. At least if he could take it home and listen, nobody would ever have to know he stooped so low. 

“What the hell, it’s not like I have anything to lose.” He muttered, then winced and quickly looked around to make sure nobody saw him talking to himself like a weirdo. 

He swallowed and stepped into the store, and immediately felt out of place. It was all white and cream, with little pot plants at the end of every shelf. Caleb couldn't figure out if they were for sale as well. The shop seemed to sell an odd selection of items: bath oils, candles, magazines, clothes; it was like a spa, a newsagent and a clothing store all smashed into one. After looking around for a moment, he saw that same smiling face from the TV in the front window plastered across a CD and picked it up.

“Can I help you?” 

A soft-spoken attendant with too much eyeliner appeared at his side, and Caleb helped back a jump.

“Just buying this.”

“Of course! Right this way.”

The woman plucked the CD from between his fingers and hurried up to the counter to ring it up.

“A gift for your girlfriend?” She asked politely, scanning it with a loud ping.

Caleb’s mouth went dry as he remembered that line from the commercial, ‘make you the woman you were always meant to be’. Oh God, he’d just bought a self-help CD for women! This entire shop was geared towards women. What the hell had he been thinking?

“Oh no, I don’t uh, well, I’m single, but it’s not for me! Obviously!”

There was a convenient hole to swallow him up when he needed it. The woman’s smile didn't drop, but something in her eyes shifted; it went from something genuine to something forced. God, she was going to tell whoever took the next shift about this, wasn't she? The weirdo guy who bought a woman’s self-help CD. crap, crap, crap.

“Well, here you go!”

She passed him back the CD, and Caleb forced his hand to take it robotically, only for the casing to slip from his sweaty fingers and clatter to the ground. The sound was louder than a bomb going off, at least to Caleb. He dove on it, wiping his hands on his pants and awkwardly backing into a shelf before finally running out the door. 

“Oh my God, Calb, just act normal how fucking hard is that?!” He hissed at himself, trying to stuff the CD into his pocket before realising it was too big and giving up. He wanted to check it into the nearest bin, but of course, they were all full, and he had no choice but to awkwardly carry it all the way back to his apartment in shame. The pink cover and smiling woman clearly visible through his fingers. 

That cold sweat spread across the back of his neck, and Caleb swore he could hear the whispered thoughts of everybody he passed.

‘What is that guy holding?’

‘A self-help CD? What a loser.’

‘It’s for women too, ha! Maybe he can’t read.’

‘Weirdo.’

‘Weido.’

‘WEIRDO.’

By the time he got back to his apartment, there was a lump in his throat, and his eyes were burning. He slammed the door closed behind him and heaved a few deep breaths. This was so pathetic, everybody else in the world knew how ot just… function, as an adult. They could go out and get coffee without overthinking it. His mother had always said he’d grow out of these awkward phases by the time he finished high school. Well, he’d finished college, was closer to thirty than twenty, and had only gotten worse. Feeling pathetic, he slid down to sit on the floor, holding the CD with both hands. 

Part of him wanted to blame it for embarrassing himself and throw it across the room. But he didn’t; instead, he just sighed. Even if it was aimed at women, maybe it could help. Some of the advice had to cross the gender boundary, surely? What did he have to lose? It wasn't like he had a girlfriend, or even any regular friends to stop in and find it. Caleb forced himself to his feet and read over the back of the CD:

Tired of that voice in your head that makes you doubt every little thing you do? Well, worry no more! Ashley Tyler’s Self-Confidence Makeover is here to help! This course is broken up into easy lessons for you to follow! Just pop in your headphones, listen well and then put them into action!

With a shrug, he opened the case and pulled out the CD, grateful his laptop still had a CD drive. He was so busy getting it all set up that he didn't notice a sheet of shiny paper slip from inside the casing and drift under the couch. 

Who sold CDs anymore? He made a mental note to transfer the audio files to his phone later. The disc whirred as he plugged in his headphones and a folder filled with numbered audio files appeared on his screen. He opened up the first one and took a deep breath, popping the earbuds in. 

His finger hovered over the play button. Caleb grimaced. This was definitely not what he had intended, but in a moment of indecision, he hit play. The instructor's upbeat voice filled his ears, that same voice that had echoed out of the TV back at the shop. 

"Hello, beautiful! My name is Ashley Tyler, think of me as your own personal cheerleader! Welcome to your first step toward empowerment! I'm so glad you're here and excited for the journey we’re about to take together. This course is all about unlocking your inner strength, embracing your femininity, and, most importantly, learning to respect and love yourself. So let's begin!"

Caleb felt a twinge of awkwardness and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. 

"Well, this is going to be weird," he muttered to himself, but decided to continue anyway. Maybe there was something useful to take from it, after all. And he didn't have anything better to do. Regrettably, that was sad in its own way. Ashley Tyler was still talking, now accompanied by some New Age sounding music with strange pulses that made his ears tingle and yet, Caleb found it oddly relaxing. 

"In order to truly be respected by others, you must first respect yourself," she said. “This is where the journey begins. Women who embrace their inherent worth don’t need to demand respect because they respect themselves. When you stand tall in your own truth, the world begins to see you for who you truly are. You are strong. You are worthy. And most importantly, you are enough. You don't have anything to prove.”

Caleb’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment; this was a lot more..girly than he’d expected. And yet, he felt a strange sense of yearning in his chest. There was something almost too confident in the way she spoke; it was the sort of self-assuredness he felt he could never have. The deeper she delved into her message, talking about the importance of femininity, of embracing one’s womanhood, he felt increasingly out of place.

"Embrace your softness, your gentleness," she continued. "These are not weaknesses. These are the things that make you uniquely powerful. Femininity is not something to be hidden or diminished; it is something to be celebrated."

Despite his embarrassment, something about the message stuck with him. It wasn’t that he disagreed with her. Maybe he didn’t relate to all of it, but he could see how many women probably did. He felt a flicker of empathy; women were often scrutinised; he certainly knew how that felt if nothing else. It was hard to imagine what it must be like to navigate the world as a woman, in a way that he was lucky. If he were a woman, maybe he’d have even more things to stress about each time he went out. 

The voice in his ear continued. 

"When you stand in your own power, others will be drawn to you. They’ll see that you’re a force to be reckoned with, and that kind of energy is magnetic. You’ll start to attract the right people, people who respect and love you for exactly who you are. And its as simple as keeping your head high and your walk confident."

“Feel those hips sway, embrace it, one foot in front of the other in a straight line, like a runway model. Think about them, how serious and confident they look strutting down that aisle? Would you ever get in their way?”

Ashley had a point. He hadn't seen much from the fashion world, but even Caleb knew what a stereotypical runway walk looked like. That intense stare in the woman’s eyes was captivating; she was right, he wouldn’t dare get in a woman's way if she were walking down the street like that. 

“Practice your walk inside. Nobody is judging you. It’s all muscle memory!” Ashley continued, “Keep up the practice and soon, you’ll be walking that way all the time without even having to think!”

Caleb’s face flushed as she continued, talking about posture and poise. The idea of practising walking made him squirm slightly; he was a grown man, and the idea of practising something he did every day seemed so childish. But the more Ashley talked, the more the idea appealed to him. Maybe posture could really help him; help him with that all important faking it, till he could make it. 

“Okay, let’s try.”

Those voices of self-doubt started whispering as soon as he stood up. Telling him how stupid he looked moving all the furniture across the room to make a big open space. He was no runway model; he wasn't even a woman. He’d look so stupid doing this; if anybody walked in and saw him, they’d laugh for days. But for the first time, there was another voice in his skull; one that competed with those whispers of self-doubt. It was Ashley Tyler, talking about empowerment and femininity. 

Caleb focused on that second, positive voice and walked from one end of the room to the other, keeping special focus on how his arms swayed and his feet moved. One foot in front of the other, hips swaying, eyes on the horizon. It felt…strange, natural, his hips took on that natural, feminine sway with ease, much more ease than they should have. Even more surprisingly, though, was how good it felt. Caleb’s lips quirked into a little smile.

“This feels…really nice.”

At first, it was hard to keep his head up, especially when he imagined himself on the street where other people could see him. But the longer he practised the walk, the better it felt and the easier it was to keep his head high. It was so much fun, he lost track of time until his stomach rumbled and he realised the sun was setting. With Ashley Tyler’s words still bouncing in his skull, he set about his usual evening routine: dinner, TV and finally bed.

All that walking and thinking about the sway of his hips must have got them stuck in his brain, though, because as he curled up on his side, Caleb swore he could feel his hip bones digging into the mattress. Almost as if they’d gotten wider. Of course, that was ridiculous and he chuckled to himself before falling asleep.