I’ve been lacking inspiration lately, and I blame it on being busy and happy—happy with who I am, the people I’m with, and what I’m doing.

But when I try writing my blog posts or think about working on my manuscript or short stories, I feel discouraged sitting there, uninspired, thinking about how much heart I used to put into writing: the creative stories I would come up with, all the time I spent scribbling FanFictions during high school algebra class, the notebooks I’d fill up with ideas or nonsense. I end up wondering where that motivated and inspired part of me has gone.

Don’t get me wrong, I love what I’m doing for work. It really is my dream job right now. But have I just settled? Is this me giving up on my decades-long dream to be an author? And am I okay with that?

Now bear with me because what I’m about to share eventually connects.

I like watching reality TV shows where rich people do their richy-rich thing. But as much as I enjoy making fun of them and dropping my jaw at how much money they throw around, I’ve recently found myself inspired by some of them. They might know they’re crabby, spoiled, or neurotic, but they exude so much confidence in social situations and are unapologetic in going after their goals. They know what they want, and they’ll do whatever it takes to get it, even if they hate the process, because that’s what they know. Not every rich kid is successful, sure, but those who carry on the generational wealth don’t make it happen by sitting around wishing for it. It takes work, drive, and stepping out of one’s comfort zone.

That kind of confidence and boldness—to make opportunities happen instead of waiting or accepting failure—is something I struggle with. And networking with a bunch of socialites and important industry people? It doesn’t matter how often I do it, it’s still hard and does not come naturally to me.

But so often, I use my inner struggles as an excuse to avoid situations or hide away. I become complacent with where I am and what I’m given instead of hustling and putting myself out there. I blame it on being lazy when maybe, deep down, I’ve let multiple rejections lead me to believe I don’t have what it takes to make it happen.

Now here’s the connection: writing this post didn’t happen until I started watching a new reality TV show about rich young adults in Beverly Hills. Seeing them take bold risks to make their place in the world—selling multi-million-dollar homes, making important connections when opportunities arise, and for some, pursuing something separate from their family name—has inspired me. It’s encouraged me to be confident in myself, bold in my decisions, and unapologetic about going after what I want in life.

This in turn begs the question: what do I base my confidence on? Rich kids have their wealthy families to back them up, but what about me? Sure, I can point to various accomplishments, my family’s successes, or my work on emotional intelligence, but ultimately, it comes down to my identity in Christ and the pride I take in having God as my Father.

How confidently do I move through the world, knowing I’m taken care of and don’t need to worry? Do I live and make decisions in a way that honors God and makes Him proud? How bold and generous can I be in loving others to reflect the way God loves them?

People will always have opinions when I claim my identity as a Christian, but I can’t lose myself or compromise just because I’m afraid of what they’ll say. In the same way, if my writing is important to me, I can’t stop working on it or lose confidence just because it’s not acknowledged the way I’d like, nor can I let the fear of failure hold me back.

I think about the kind of person I want to be: humble, passionate, kind, and brimming with confidence because I know who I belong to. It’s time to exude that rich-person confidence and strut.

Who knew reality TV could be inspiring?