The confidence gap between the business you have and the business you deserve

How many versions of your business are you currently running?

Because I would argue there are three.

1. There is the one you have. The one you immediately describe when someone asks what you do

2. There is the one you want. The one you are working towards (hinted at in your to-do lists, goal sheets and vision boards)

3. And then there is the one that fascinates me most. The one that, in your less confident moments, you tell yourself you deserve
   

That third version is the one worth examining. Because for most independent business owners, it is considerably smaller than the evidence actually supports.

The confidence gap

There is no shortage of data about business confidence right now. UK small business confidence fell to its lowest point outside of the Covid-19 pandemic in Q4 2024, with the Federation of Small Businesses' confidence reading dropping to -64.5 points.

Business leaders remain confident in the outlook for their own businesses, but are much more pessimistic about the prospects for the wider UK economy.

This gap – between how capable people feel about their own work and how they perceive the world around them – is interesting. But it is not the gap I want to talk about today. The gap I want to talk about is smaller, quieter, and considerably more consequential for the people I work with.

It is the gap between what your body of evidence says you are capable of and what the voice in your head, on its less generous days, tells you that you deserve.

That gap exists almost entirely in the story you are telling yourself about your own business. What I love about this gap is that, because it only exists within you, you have the power to close it.

And I speak from experience because, some time ago, I came up against my own 'gap' and instead of doing something about it – I chose it to be my truth.

The night I said no to the West End

This story (which I expand on in more detail in my book) is the clearest example I know of what a confidence gap looks like in practice.

I am a drummer. Actually I'm a pretty bloomin' good one. A long time before I got into coaching I played professionally and I even got to drum at the Lyceum Theatre in London's West End, for the Disney production of The Lion King.

My performance was a live audition to become the dep drummer for the show. It was a 'one-and-done'. No rehearsals. Just sit down and play.

Two obvious things that are always worth stating (in order to reinforce my body of evidence) about that night:

1. This was the West End. The expected standard of playing is already extraordinary

2. Add Disney to the equation and you have to raise the bar higher still

And there I was, about to play live in front of a packed house, with no 'pause' or 'replay' button to save me. The show always comes first (of course) and so a safety net was agreed with the show's drummer – a session legend called Andy Newmark. Andy would sit behind me in the drum booth and, if anything went wrong, he would tap me on the shoulder, I would step away from the kit at the first opportunity, and he would finish the show.

Half past ten that evening. The curtain came down. 2,100 people on their feet. No tap on the shoulder. I played the show from start to finish without incident. By every measure that existed in that room, I was a West End drummer.

Except in my own head.

I spent the days that followed mourning over every tiny detail. Worrying about what the rest of the orchestra thought. Wondering whether I had put the cast off their flow. Asking myself whether the audience had clapped as loudly that night as the night before, when Andy had played.

I let the version of the performance I thought I had delivered (the business I thought I deserved) grow so loud in my head that, when Andy called a few days later with the verdict from the MD and producers, I had already decided I hadn't got the part.

I said "no thanks" to Andy, and I never spoke to him again.

I chose the story over the evidence. And (for much longer than necessary) I stayed stuck.

What The Four Fears® were doing that night

I share that story because it is the most honest illustration I have of The Four Fears® operating at full volume simultaneously.

• "I'm not ready" (perfectionism) had me rehearsing every imperfection in my head rather than acknowledging what had actually happened

• "I'm not good enough" (comparisonitis) had me measuring my performance against Andy's, against the standard I imagined the orchestra expected, against a benchmark I had invented (and yet had clearly already met simply by sitting on the drum stool)

• "I don't have time" (procrastination) was an excuse. If I say no now, I won't have to put the in time and effort to get good enough (and be tortured over how I clearly wasn't good enough before)

• "What if I get it wrong?" (fear of failure) was the loudest voice of all. What if saying yes meant discovering, conclusively, that I was not as good as that night suggested?

The evidence said, "no tap on the shoulder, standing ovation, West End drummer."

The story I chose to believe said something considerably smaller.

That is the confidence gap. And it is not unique to me.

Your body of evidence vs your less confident story

In my own annual survey of creative business owners, 43% said that "I am not good enough" was the fear that resonated most with them. Three years running, it has been the most common response.

And yet every single one of them is still in business. Still showing up. Still building something.

The evidence of their capability is accumulating every week: in client work delivered, problems solved, relationships built, decisions made. But the story their less confident self tells about what they deserve has not kept pace with that evidence. The gap gently widens until the distance between the business they have and the business they tell themselves they deserve feels too large to cross.

As the story grows, it becomes less and less accurate. We need to write a better story – one that takes the body of evidence seriously rather than discounting it as luck, timing, or a fortunate set of circumstances.

Closing the gap (the practical bit)

Here are the two questions I come back to, again and again, with every person I work with. They are deceptively simple and worth taking seriously rather than answering quickly:

1. What is it you really want from your business or career? And I mean REALLY want (not what sounds good on a vision board)?

2. And why is that so important to you that you are prepared to embrace the Fear and take the brave action required to make it happen?
   

The first question locates the gap. The second question gives you a reason to cross it.

Most people can answer the first question relatively easily once they give themselves permission to be honest. The second is harder. Because the "why" that will actually sustain you through the uncomfortable moments is almost never the surface-level answer. It is the thing underneath it. The real motivation. The thing that, when you connect with it properly, makes the Fear feel considerably less loud.

If you know your answers to both questions, I would genuinely love to hear them.

If you don't, that is where the work begins.

Take your first step in closing the gap

Think about the version of your business that, in your less confident moments, you tell yourself you deserve. Now think about your body of evidence: The people who choose to work with you. The problems you solved. The decisions you made well. The moments where you showed up and it worked. The kind words your clients often feed back with.

Write down the gap between those two things. Specifically.

That gap is a measure of how loudly the story has been running. And a story, once you have named it clearly enough, becomes a surprisingly manageable thing to change.

The Business Bravery Quiz takes four minutes and will show you exactly where your clarity and bravery currently sit, and what that means for the gap you are carrying. It is a useful starting point.

Or, if you would rather just have the conversation, a free 30-minute call is always available. No agenda. Just a useful hour.

Mark Franklin is The Four Fears® Guy: a transformational mindset coach and speaker working with people who are building something of their own.

What version of your business are you currently telling yourself you deserve? Drop it in the comments. That conversation is always worth having.