How to finally start your business when fear keeps telling you to wait one more month

"I've been wanting to start my business for two years.

I have the idea, I have the skills, I keep saying next month.

I think I'm scared but I don't fully understand of what."

The fact that you can't name the fear is totally normal. It means the fear is doing that thing that fear does: making itself hard to look at directly.

So, let's look at it 👀

1. You might not be scared of failing. You might be scared of being seen trying.

There's a particular kind of vulnerability that comes with wanting something visibly. Not just doing it quietly, in private, where no one can see — but actually putting it out there.

Telling people.
Having a website.
Showing up as someone who is building a thing and meaning it.

That exposes you in a specific way.

Someone could watch you want this and see exactly how much it matters to you.
Someone could see you try and not make it.
Someone could see you care, your naked heart flayed to the world.

And that might feel to your nervous system, at a very primal level, more dangerous than never trying at all. 

Because if you never try, you never have to find out. The dream stays intact. The potential is still there.

It makes complete sense that it's paralyzing. It doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. It means you need to know that the exposure is part of the deal, and decide it's worth it anyway.

2. You're wanting to feel safe. ...that feeling isn't coming, but you can build toward it.

If you're like me, you're looking for a guarantee — some sort of green light that tells you the timing is right, you're ready enough, it'll all go perfectly A-okay.

But I'm gonna say it frank, my friend: that light doesn't exist.

Not for any sort of creating something from nothing. You're venturing into the unknown: nothing is guaranteed. *said in an ominous, deep voice*

The waiting isn't protecting you from failure. It's protecting you from finding out. And those are very different things.

I want to tell you something about how I first started writing more seriously. I knew for a long time that I wanted to write and share more of my story. I had so much built up inside of me. But I didn't feel safe enough to do it entirely as myself... not yet. So instead of waiting until I did, I created a ghost Instagram account. Anonymous. No name, no face, no one who knew me could connect it back to me. It sounds like a workaround, and it was — but it was also the thing that let me start.

I wasn't hiding forever. I was building the muscle. I was finding out what it felt like to put words out into the world before I had to attach my name to them. I created parameters that made me safer pragmatically, so the fear had less surface area to grip.

You can do that too. The question isn't "how do I feel ready?" It's "what would make this feel doable right now?"

Maybe that's starting quieter than you think you should.
Maybe it's telling one person instead of announcing it.
Maybe it's building the thing before you launch it.

Create the safety you need to take action.

The risk doesn't mean don't do it. It means you care.

3. Bravery is never about the absence of fear. It's doing it afraid.

And I won't lie to you... it will probably be harder than you imagined in some ways, and easier than you imagined in others. It will be exhausting and confronting and probably anticlimactic at times. The first version won't be the best version. You won't feel ready when you launch. You'll second-guess yourself more than you want to. Etc, etc, etc, ad nauseum.

And that's OKAY. Those feelings and scared parts of you are along for the ride. They don't just magically disappear and THEN you do the thing. You do the thing AND tend to the fear in the process. 

Just don't let fear take the steering wheel.

And know, please, you will grow. Not in the preparation — in the doing. There's no version of this where you figure it all out first and then begin. You begin, and then you figure it out. The clarity comes with the action, not the other way around.

Trust what you want. Trust what you keep being pulled toward.

Two years of coming back to the same thing isn't indecision. I think it's a pretty clear answer 😏

Try doing it scared.

Thoughts? Let me know how it goes.

Here for you,
Deanne.

What's the thing you want to do, but haven't yet?
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