The Calendar Doesn't Care If You're Ready
- Crystal Marshall
- Jul 14
- 6 min read
There are moments in life when we spend so much time waiting to feel ready that we forget something important:
The calendar doesn't care.
Deadlines arrive.
The interview comes.
The first day starts.
The meeting begins.
The opportunity you've prayed for finally knocks.
None of those moments pause long enough for us to catch our breath or build our confidence.
They simply arrive.
For years, I hoped confidence came first, and the work followed.
Then one experience completely changed my perspective.
"You."
Four years into my career at BET, the woman who managed our awards ticketing and red-carpet access for the Ad Sales department left the company.
She was responsible for everything.
She managed ticket inventory, determined who received red-carpet credentials, led our department's onsite operations, and somehow made one of the busiest weeks look doable.
She was direct, a little intimidating at times, and reminded me so much of my grandmother.
I respected her immensely.
Whenever I had a chance, I volunteered to help. She taught me how to read seating charts, organize ticket inventory, and understand pieces of the process. I enjoyed learning, but never once imagined I was loosely training for her job.
After she left, I asked my executive who would be taking over her responsibilities.
Without hesitation, he looked at me and said,
"You."
That was it.
No long conversation.
No transition plan.
No reassurance beyond telling me to ask questions if I needed help.
Initially, our next event was the Soul Train Awards.
Compared to BET Awards, it was much smaller.
There were fewer moving pieces, fewer events, and fewer opportunities for things to go sideways. Looking back, I realize it wasn't just another event—it was my training ground.
I was nervous, but I also believed I could figure it out.
I did.
Then June arrived.
The Countdown
BET Awards wasn't simply an event.
It was seven consecutive days of organized chaos.
I suddenly found myself responsible for approximately 350 VIP guests, more than 2,500 tickets and wristbands, a 32-person hospitality team, an event planner, our hospitality and glam suite where guests picked up credentials and prepared for events, along with coordinating hairstylists, barbers, makeup artists, and countless moving pieces behind the scenes.
It was an incredible honor.
It was also terrifying.
I wish I could tell you I was excited.
I wasn't.
My mom, on the other hand, couldn't have been happier. She has always believed in me—even in moments when I was struggling to believe in myself.
In retrospect, she was celebrating what she already knew I was capable of becoming.
Me: "What if I can't do this?" My mom: "You're about to be amazing." Me: "What if I can't do this?" My mom: "You're about to be amazing."
She always believes in me even when I'm uneasy.
So, I did what I have always done whenever something feels bigger than me.
I prepared.
Four months before the event, I started creating systems.
I designed itinerary templates for our fly-in guests.
I partnered with our IT team to build RSVP links and Adobe forms that collected every detail we would need in advance.
I created checks and balances that made it easier to track information.
I thought through problems before they became problems.
I couldn't control every situation.
But I could control my preparation.
As the event got closer, I began counting down the days.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
The preparation was there.
The confidence wasn't.
The Prayer That Changed Everything
When I arrived in Los Angeles, I remember looking at myself in the mirror before the week officially began.
I was anxious.
The kind of anxious that sits quietly in your stomach and whispers, "What if you're not ready?"
So, I prayed.
I asked God to give me the wisdom, guidance, and fortitude to make it through the entire week with excellence.
I instantly felt simultaneously nervous and at peace.
Not because I suddenly knew every answer.
But because I sensed Him saying,
"You'll be fine. I'll send help."
At the time, I had no idea what that help would look like.
Help Doesn't Always Look the Way You Expect
The morning of the awards was nonstop.
Questions came from every direction.
Problems needed solving.
Someone always needed something.
That morning, we hosted a brunch. Every time I sat down to eat, someone walked over with another question.
I'd answer it.
Sit back down.
Get up again.
Come back.
Leave again.
After about the fifth interruption, I returned to my table only to find my plate gone.
The staff had cleared it, assuming I had finished eating.
I wanted to cry.
By that point, I had been surviving on one meal a day throughout the week. I was exhausted, hungry, and still had an entire day ahead of me.
So, I walked back to the buffet and made another plate.
That's when two chefs stopped me.
One of them smiled and said, "We see you. You're working too hard to actually eat out there."
Without me asking, they had prepared a small table behind a curtain where no one would interrupt me. They brought my food back, encouraged me to sit down, and insisted I take my time.
Most people would probably see that as a thoughtful gesture.
I saw something much bigger.
I saw God keeping His promise.
He didn't remove the responsibility.
He didn't make the week easier.
He simply sent help.
The Celebration I Didn't Expect
People often compliment how smoothly everything ran.
What they didn't see were the months leading up to it.
The spreadsheets.
The templates.
The contingency plans.
The late nights.
The systems.
The team leads I intentionally appointed so thirty-two people didn't all come to me with every question at once.
Preparation didn't eliminate every challenge.
It gave me room to think when challenges showed up.
It bought me a kind of peace that panic never could.
By the end of the week, senior executives and guests shared that it was one of the best-run BET Awards experiences they had ever seen.
I was incredibly proud.
I was also completely exhausted.
Then something happened that caught me completely off guard.
My executive, Louis Carr, was known for never dancing in public.
That night, after the awards and dinner had ended, he started dancing.
It wasn't something he announced.
It wasn't meant to be a speech.
It was simply joy.
Standing there watching him celebrate, I realized something significant.
That dance told me everything I needed to know about the work we'd just done.
As soon as everything ended, I hopped on the 6:00 a.m. flight back to Chicago.
I went home, curled up on my couch, and barely moved for days.
But something inside me had changed.
What BET Awards Really Gave Me
Years later, when it came time to look for a new opportunity, I wasn't searching from a place of fear.
I was searching from a place of proof.
The unknown still made me nervous.
New opportunities always do.
Applying for a Chief of Staff role meant stepping into another environment I had never experienced before. There would be new systems to learn, new relationships to build, and new challenges I couldn't possibly anticipate.
But BET Awards had already taught me something invaluable.
I knew what it felt like to walk into the unknown.
I also knew what it felt like to walk out of it stronger than I had imagined.
Ready Isn't the Starting Line
People often think confidence comes before the opportunity.
I don't believe that anymore.
Confidence is built while you're solving problems.
It's developed while you're asking questions.
It's strengthened every time you discover that you can handle more than you thought you could.
Yes, I was nervous applying for my next role.
But nervous and incapable have never been the same thing.
God had never forsaken me before, and I had no reason to believe He would start then.
Looking back, I realize I wasn't waiting to become confident.
I was becoming the kind of person confidence follows.
So, if you're standing in front of an opportunity wondering whether you're ready, let me lovingly remind you of something I had to learn myself.
The calendar doesn't care if you're ready.
The date will come.
The meeting will begin.
The opportunity will arrive.
Prepare the best you can.
Pray without ceasing.
Receive the help that comes.
Trust what you've learned.
Then show up anyway.
You may discover, just as I did, that confidence wasn't waiting for you before the work.
It was waiting faithfully on the other side of it.
Crystal this was an amazing blog posts. I need this because I have been struggling with confidence and my need to be perfect in every aspect in my career. Thanks for the friendly reminder that confidence comes while you do the work.