How to start the thing you keep thinking about.

Last week, I wrote about how to think of an idea worth starting. But this week I want to talk about the harder part: actually starting it.

I truly believe that the issue for most people isn’t a lack of ideas. Or even knowing what the first step is. But instead, it’s that we put so much pressure on ourselves to complete that first step. Or maybe too much pressure on the idea of us not taking it any further than step one.

There are certain things we find scary, others we find exciting, and a third bucket of things that are both. Naturally, what falls into what category is different for everybody.

My table of things I find scary vs exciting! I am very happy to say I have done/ do all the things in ‘exciting’ and ‘both’. I'm sad to say I still have some small contributions to doing my tax returns.

The things that fit both buckets are the things you should challenge yourself to do. But because of the scary part, we tend to worry about the consequences of starting these. Or hold a belief that once we do start, we can’t change our mind.

This may sound more serious than it is. As an example, I’ve had the Throne of Glass series on my “to be read” list for three years. I read Acotar in 2022 and loved it (fully aware that my taste in books is basic, but I bear no apologies). I’ve heard enough hype to trust it will be good. But eight big books? When my entire goal for 2026 is twelve books total? That feels like committing to a second job. And for me, falls into the scary and exciting category.

The first step is technically simple. I could just borrow book one from my friend (who stamps her books like library property and would probably disown me if I folded a page). Or, to protect the friendship, I could just buy the first one myself.

But that’s the point. Starting is rarely unclear; it’s just intimidating. And when you’re not confident you can follow through, you stall.

In contrast, I love travelling. If I want to go somewhere new, I’ll research it like that’s my job. Changing my entire TikTok algorithm, watching every travel vlogger’s YouTube video and if I really take it too far, maybe even create a spreadsheet itinerary. Then I book it, go, and spend a bit of time financially recovering with a plain pasta diet for the following weeks. Full excitement and no hesitation.

You don’t have the confidence to start

Confidence is an underrated skill.

We tend to talk about talent, intelligence, experience and luck of ‘successful’ people who are in the positions we dream of. But we rarely talk about their willingness to put themselves forward before they had the proof they deserved to be there.

We’ll marvel at how someone has reached a certain point in their career, questioning how they managed it when they don’t seem particularly more skilled or qualified than anyone else. Of course, there are definite privileges that may have got them there. But sometimes the difference really is just the confidence. Or at least, the ability to act without it.

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I saw a TikTok the other day that shared the sentiment of how if you don’t start, someone else will. If you don’t back yourself, someone with half your experience might. And that’s not meant to sound dramatic but it is how things work.

Believing in your ideas doesn’t come naturally to most people. But that belief usually does need to come before any evidence. If belief waits for proof, nothing will ever really begin. That’s why readiness is such a moving target (check out my other Substack on this!).

Or, you think you don’t know where to start

The other reason people don’t start is the more likely excuse you’ll hear: “I don’t know where to start.”

As someone who has said this many times themselves, I don’t actually believe that’s true.

Most of the time it’s that we don’t know what the right starting point is. The one that guarantees you won’t waste time, make mistakes, or have to change your mind later. So instead of starting anywhere, we wait.

Spoiler alert: I also don’t believe that point exists.

It’s an easy out to look to someone else to guide you to the perfect starting point. When really that’s a personal decision.

There’s almost always something you could do today that would move the idea out of your head and into the real world, even just a little bit. That thing is likely personal in the sense that what you may label your easy first step may well be my nightmare. It took me an entire year to set up an invoice tracker for my business (thank god my accountant is conveniently my brother, who cannot shout at me). I still play the smallest role possible in working through my tax return (again, thank you Ben).

But this is where confidence sneaks back in.

Because if you start with the tasks you can do, you know you’ll still eventually get to the tasks you can’t do.

My Mum wanted to learn to crochet. So rather than starting with a complex bag, taught herself to first crochet a hat. A very good start!

I started with all the business parts I deemed ‘nice’, like setting up my website and beginning to market myself and putting myself forward for talks. But I knew I would eventually have to tick off those scary tasks too. Don’t get me wrong, I probably didn’t launch my business in the “right” order, but I launched it in an order that made me actually do it. And that’s better than not starting at all.

So, how do you actually start?

When I’m starting something new, I try to resist the urge to treat it like a life-altering decision that needs to be perfectly thought through from day one (abandon those perfectionist tendencies, I dare you!).

Ambitious people have a habit of turning beginnings into declarations. We don’t just want to start a thing; we want it to change our lives so it justifies the time and energy we’re about to give it. And while that long-term thinking isn’t a bad thing, it’s a terrible place to begin from.

Nothing kills momentum faster than putting “launch a new business” or “become a content creator” on a to-do list. That’s not a task that can be approached.

So instead, I focus on making the start feel as small and doable as possible.

1. Narrow the thing down

Big goals usually come with big, broad language.

“Launch a business.”

“Become a graphic designer.”

“Get paid for creating content.”

They sound exciting, but they’re impossible to act on.

So the first thing I always do is break the idea into the parts that will eventually make it real. When I wanted to become a freelance web designer, that list roughly included: setting up a website to show my services, working through portfolio projects, finding ways to reach new audiences, and writing about what I know to share my expertise.

But importantly, you don’t need to do all those things to start.

I didn’t launch my Substack until two years into being self-employed full-time. My social media presence came about a year in (and honestly, I’m still not doing a good job at that part; that is another thing in my ‘scary’ bucket).

The first thing I did was set up my website to show my services, because it was the most doable for me at that moment. The easiest thing for me to tick off that enabled me to say I’d started.

If you want to become a content creator and you’re great at photography but intimidated by video, starting with Instagram makes far more sense than committing to YouTube, TikTok, and everything else at once.

It’s about starting where you can and then finding the path from there.

2. Narrow it down even more

Even once you’ve narrowed the thing down, it can still feel bigger than you’d like it to be. You might know the category of the first step (“build a website”, “start posting”, “begin writing”) and still feel a bit frozen by it.

That’s usually a sign the step isn’t quite small enough yet.

When I’m starting something new, I never write down big, vague tasks and expect myself to feel motivated by them. “Build a website” is not something I can sit down and do in an afternoon, and so isn’t something I’m probably ever actually going to tick off.

As a rough rule, I try to make each task something I could realistically complete in under two hours. So I keep breaking down each goal even more until I reach that.

If the goal is to launch a website, that might look like:

1. Buy the domain

2. Choose a hosting platform

3. Map out the site pages

4. Map out the structure of each page

5. Write the homepage copy

6. Design the homepage wireframe

7. Design the full-fidelity homepage

You get the picture. Specific and small enough goals that I can schedule a max of two hours for each. And I always set the first step as easy and quick as possible, to give myself one less excuse to put off starting.

I also try to be very realistic with timing at this stage. Getting behind on self-imposed deadlines is incredibly demotivating, especially at the beginning. So instead of trying to do everything at once, I’ll just set myself a small task a week and let progress build slowly. Starting over the course of a month is better than not starting at all.

3. Work to make it a consistent habit

Once you’ve got your starting point, the next challenge is continuity.

Motivation is typically unreliable. No matter your intentions, it’s not going to be around every day, and it’s a relatively fickle emotion. Especially when there’s no immediate feedback to reward your early efforts.

So consistency matters because it’s how something moves from being an intention to becoming part of your routine.

I’ve worked to make gym classes part of my routine. So shout out to Barry’s for the motivational mirror stickers.

I know myself well enough to know that elaborate systems don’t help me here. And sadly, no amount of podcasts from Mel Robbins or re-reads of ‘Atomic Habits’ is going to make me habit-stack motivation either. But I do know that if I leave something for more than a few days, it’s increasingly difficult to return to it.

You do whatever works for you to make you consistent. If that’s a colour-coded calendar or pretty journal, then go for it. If it’s habit-stacking, working on your new thing whilst drinking your morning coffee, great.

For me, I keep it super simple. When I first decided I wanted to move toward self-employment, I pinned a blank sheet of A4 paper to my desk. Every day I did anything that moved me closer to that goal, I put a sticker on it. (Super random stickers, some from an Adobe event, my last workplace, some old craft things I had). Sometimes that thing was big, but often it was just quick 10-minute tasks to move me closer to my goal. And then, when I couldn’t see any tangible progress in my move to full-time freelance, I had that sticker sheet to remind me I was still making progress.

4. Don’t set a goal just yet

This part might feel a bit controversial, especially if you’re someone who likes structure and targets. But when you’re just starting something new, I don’t think goals are always helpful.

At this stage, your primary objective is to learn what the thing actually looks like.

How much energy does it take? Where does it fit into your week? What parts do you enjoy? Which parts feel harder than you expected? Adding outcome-based goals on top of that can quickly turn a fragile new habit into something that feels heavy and evaluative.

So instead of setting a goal, I treat the early phase as a trial period.

The only “target” I care about during this time is showing up consistently. And if I need to set myself a tangible target, I make sure it’s only things I can directly influence. So rather than “get my first client within three months”, I’d challenge myself to complete three portfolio projects in three months. Or rather than aiming for a certain number of followers, I’d focus on posting consistently on my chosen platform for a set period of time.

Last year, I decided to start writing on Substack. I aimed to write once a week for six months to build a consistent habit and enjoy the process before setting any specific goals. I’ve now reached that milestone (hello, article number 27!), but with only 10 followers and about 60% of my views coming from myself, my mum, and my boyfriend. If I had set a goal of 50 followers, I’d be feeling pretty downbeat and would likely have given up. But instead, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it; I’m happy with myself for being consistent, and I plan to continue my no-goal test period with it.

5. Now set your first goal

Once you’ve been consistent for a while and gathered enough information about what you’re doing and your approach, goals can become truly useful.

Especially when trying something new, I find it helpful to work in short cycles, focusing on just one main goal at a time. Setting short timeframes allows more frequent check-ins on your progress, giving you the chance to reflect, reassess, and move forward again. This, in turn, boosts your motivation and helps you stay on track.

And before you know it, what once seemed just a theory is now a reality: you’ve started it, and you’re shaping it into something real.

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