How to Start Something New When You Don’t Feel Ready

We’ve spent all of September talking about beginning.

Why we wait to feel ready. Why we keep collecting proof that we’re qualified. Why “high standards” can sometimes be perfectionism keeping us safely out of sight.

So when Jessica and I sat down to record the final episode of the month, there was a certain irony we couldn’t ignore. We’ve been talking about this stuff as though we understand it. And we do understand some of it. But we’re also still doing it.

We’re still learning. Still catching ourselves. Still finding the places where fear sounds remarkably reasonable. Still trying to figure out what real over perfect looks like when we’re the ones who actually have to practice it.

That might be my favorite thing about this season so far.

We’re not talking from the other side of becoming.

We’re in it.

Maybe Beginning Doesn’t Need to Look That Impressive

One thing shifted during our conversation that I’ve kept thinking about.

Instead of spending the episode listing everything we haven’t done, we started talking about what we are doing.

Not necessarily the final thing. Not the big, impressive version. The small thing that moves us a little closer.

That distinction matters because I think we have a tendency to make “beginning” much bigger than it needs to be.

If you want to change careers, beginning sounds like quitting your job.

If you want to write something, beginning sounds like publishing it.

If you want to get healthier, beginning sounds like completely changing how you eat, move, sleep, and live starting Monday morning.

If you want to put yourself out there, beginning sounds like suddenly becoming the person who confidently puts herself out there.

No wonder we wait. We’ve accidentally made the first step responsible for the entire journey.

The Gap Between Wanting and Doing

There’s actually a name in psychology for part of what we’re talking about: the intention-behavior gap.

Basically, wanting to do something and actually doing it are not the same process.

This is obvious when you think about real life. We can sincerely intend to exercise, call someone, start a project, make an appointment, have a difficult conversation, or finally deal with that thing we’ve been avoiding.

The intention can be completely genuine.

And still…nothing happens.

Psychologist Peter Gollwitzer’s research on implementation intentions offers an interesting way to bridge some of that gap. Instead of stopping with a broad intention—I want to do this—you identify a concrete situation and connect it to an action: when this happens, I’ll do this.

A large meta-analysis of 94 studies found that these kinds of specific plans improved people’s ability to translate intentions into action.

What I like about that research is how unglamorous it is.

It isn’t asking us to become more motivated.

It’s asking us to get more specific.

And that sounds a lot like where Jessica and I landed in our conversation.

Name What You Want

This sounds embarrassingly obvious. But I’m starting to think it might be the part we skip most often. What do you actually want? Not what are you supposed to want.

Not what would make sense for someone your age, in your career, with your family, with your life.

What is the thing you keep circling? Sometimes I think we focus so quickly on obstacles that we never clearly name the desire underneath them.

I don’t have enough time. It’s too expensive. I don’t know where to start. I’m not qualified. I’m not good at that. —- All of those things might matter.

But none of them answer the first question.

What do I want to do?

There’s something useful about separating the desire from all the reasons it might be difficult.

Not because those reasons disappear.

Because now we can actually see what we’re working with.

Then Name What You’re Afraid Of

This is where the conversation gets less comfortable.

Once I know what I want, what’s underneath all the reasons I haven’t moved toward it?

Sometimes there is a very practical answer. Money. Time. Health. Family responsibilities. Access. A skill I genuinely need.

Real life creates real constraints, and I don’t want to turn every obstacle into some hidden psychological problem. But sometimes the practical answer is only the first layer. Maybe I don’t know where to start because I don’t want to choose the wrong starting point. Maybe I need more information because I’m afraid of looking inexperienced. Maybe I’m too busy because somehow every other priority keeps getting placed ahead of this one. Maybe I’m waiting until I feel confident because being seen as a beginner feels awful.

This entire month has made me much more interested in the story underneath the story.

Not so I can judge it. Just so I can see it.

Because “I haven’t had time” and “I’m afraid people will judge me” are two very different problems.

They probably need two very different first steps.

Then Make the Step Smaller

This is where I’m landing after a month of talking about beginning:

The first step doesn’t need to prove how serious you are.

It just needs to be a step.

There’s research behind making action concrete. Implementation-intention studies suggest that deciding specifically when, where, and how we will act can help turn goals into behavior. Other research combining concrete planning with identifying obstacles has also found modest improvements in goal attainment. (PubMed Central (PMC))

But honestly, I also like this idea because it leaves room for real life.

We’ve talked about this before at Chasing Brighter when exploring systems that actually work. I keep coming back to the same question:

What’s the smallest version that still counts?

Not the smallest version that transforms your life.

The smallest version that moves.

Maybe you don’t hire the person yet. You research three options.

Maybe you don’t launch the project. You create the document.

Maybe you don’t suddenly become comfortable sharing your work. You share one thing.

Maybe you don’t know the whole plan. You talk to someone who has done the thing you’re considering.

Books count.

Podcasts count.

YouTube counts.

Asking a friend counts.

Using a tool to help you think through the problem counts.

You don’t have to confuse a small beginning with a small ambition.

We Can Use Tools Without Handing Them Our Humanity

Something else came up in our conversation that I think is worth carrying beyond the episode.

Jessica and I talked about AI because we’ve both found ways to use it to help us get unstuck.

And I think there’s an important distinction here too.

A tool can help us think.

It can ask questions, organize information, suggest possibilities, break something overwhelming into smaller pieces, or help us see a starting point we hadn’t considered.

But I don’t want a tool—or an expert, a podcast, a book, or anyone else—to become another source of permission.

The goal isn’t to find something that will tell us exactly how to live.

It’s to use resources that help us hear ourselves more clearly and make our own next decision.

And none of those tools replace people.

They don’t replace the friend who knows your history.

They don’t replace community.

They don’t replace professional support when you need it.

They don’t replace sitting across from another human being and saying, Here’s the thing I haven’t been saying out loud.

Tools can help us begin.

Human connection is still human connection.

Maybe You Don’t Need the Whole Plan Yet

This is the part I’m carrying with me as September ends.

I think sometimes we believe we need clarity about the entire path before we can trust ourselves with the first step.

But maybe those are two separate things.

Maybe I can know what I want without knowing exactly how I’ll get there.

Maybe I can acknowledge what scares me without fixing the fear first.

Maybe I can take one small action without promising myself that I’ll finish the entire journey.

That feels much more realistic to me.

And maybe more honest.

A question to sit with

What are you actually waiting for—and what would count as beginning if the first step were allowed to be very small?

Not impressive.

Not brave.

Not something worth announcing.

Just real.

Where I’m Landing—for Now

At the beginning of September, we asked what might happen if we stopped waiting to feel ready.

Four weeks later, I don’t think I’ve landed on some magical formula for starting.

I think I’ve landed somewhere simpler.

Name what you want.

Name what’s actually getting in the way.

Choose one thing that moves you closer.

Then see what happens.

Maybe that small step gives you information.

Maybe it changes your mind.

Maybe you realize you don’t want the thing after all.

Maybe it creates the next step.

That’s part of becoming too.

The point isn’t to prove that we’re fearless enough, disciplined enough, qualified enough, or confident enough to reinvent ourselves.

It’s to stop requiring a future, more-perfect version of ourselves to live the life that’s happening now.

Start where you are.

Start with what you have.

And if all you can see is the next small thing?

Maybe that’s enough to begin.

In this week’s Chasing Brighter episode, Jessica and I get much more personal about what beginning currently looks like for each of us—the fears underneath some of the things we’ve been putting off, the small steps we’re actually taking, and what we’re learning as we go.

Because we’re not finished with this stuff either.

We’re becoming.

And I think that’s the whole point.