You know the one.
It sounds something like, Who do you think you are? You’re not ready. It’s too much. Too soon. Too far-fetched.
I’ve been living in that loop lately. Something had been swirling around in my head for days. It felt bold, a little ridiculous, but also … right. The kind of thing that keeps tugging at you, even after you’ve talked yourself out of it 10 times over.
The truth is, I’ve experienced that loop hundreds of times before, because I seem to be addicted to going for things. Solo travel from a young age. Flying out for jobs I knew nothing about, like working on cruise ships or a mine site in the Pilbara. I’ve built a life on saying yes before I have all the answers. But lately, I’ve been a little boring. Comfortable. Safe. And maybe that’s why this new opportunity felt so familiar, it woke something up I’d been missing.
I’d been thinking about it for days, talking myself out of it again and again, until finally I realised I was just stuck in the spiral. So I did what any overthinking, half-delusional optimist would do: I brushed my teeth, looked at the bed, looked in the mirror, and said, “Stuff it. I’m not going to sleep until I just do it.”
I’d just finished recording a video pitch for a dream opportunity, the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip. A chance to work with people I deeply admire, the kind who make you want to raise your own game.
It wasn’t at all put together. I was in my pyjamas, no makeup, terrible lighting, but it was as authentic as it gets. And I was confident that, from what I know about these people, they’d value that far more than something polished. Genuine communication. Unfiltered.
And it felt electric. Not because it was perfect, but because it was done. Because for once, fear didn’t win.
That’s the quiet truth about courage. It rarely looks cinematic. More often, it’s awkward, sweaty, heart-pounding action that happens when no-one’s watching. It’s the tiny internal shift between thinking about something and finally doing it.
We talk about confidence as though it’s a prerequisite, something you need to build before you start. But I’m starting to think it’s the opposite. Confidence doesn’t come first. Action does. Confidence grows in the cracks of our shaky, imperfect steps forward.
Sometimes the only way to know you’re capable is to prove it to yourself.
So, if you’ve had something circling in your head — a project, an idea, a conversation you’ve been avoiding — take this as your sign. You don’t need to be certain. You don’t need to be ready. You just need to take one tiny, defiant action towards it.
The courage to go for it anyway doesn’t mean you’ll nail it. It just means you’ll move, and movement always leads somewhere better than standing still.
