If you have spent months polishing a logo, researching niches, and debating colour palettes, I get it. I wasted years starting and stopping blogs and newsletters because I thought I had to look professional from day one. It felt safer to scheme than to ship.
Perfection is procrastination wearing a fancy outfit.
The problem: the I’m a Professional trap
I worked in media as an editor, director, producer, executive producer, and head of broadcasting for a billion-dollar business. When I tried to build something of my own, it felt amateur next to my day job. A YouTube video on my phone looked nothing like the Olympic Games package I had just shipped. So I stalled. I second-guessed. I convinced myself I was being strategic.
The truth is, the fear of beginning with what you have is paralysing. If this resonates, you are not alone. The professional standards that made you good at your career can strangle your early experiments.
You will never feel ready. Start anyway.
The solution: Ready. Fire. Aim.
What you start with may not be what you end up with. Starting is how you discover the audience you can serve and the need worth solving. You do not need a masterplan. You need momentum.
Ready
“Ready” is misleading. You will never feel ready. You only need a clear first shot. That could be:
A YouTube channel on caring for tropical fish
A weekly newsletter based on your years building SaaS products
An online community for midlife career pivoters
Pick the smallest version that gets you moving.
Fire
This is the hard bit. Stop planning and publish one real thing. No more niche spreadsheets. Forget the limited company paperwork. Nobody cares about your consistent colour palette.
Write and send the first newsletter. Record and upload the first video. Launch a simple landing page and invite five people.
At first, only your mum will see it. That is a feature, not a bug.
Aim
Now you can adjust. Use feedback to aim at what actually works. Often the thing evolves:
YouTube started as a dating site before it became, well, YouTube
Slack was a tool from a failed game company
James Clear wrote two blog posts a week before Atomic Habits existed
Let the market and your curiosity guide the next shot.
Try this
Name the thing you are delaying because it does not feel “professional” yet.
Cut it in half. What is the smallest version you can publish in 48 hours?
Tell one friend you will send it by a specific time. Hit send.
Real examples you can steal
If the tropical fish channel flops, but people love your interviews with tank builders, pivot to a podcast about tank design.
If your SaaS newsletter gets three replies asking for templates, sell a simple template pack before you build a course.
If your community posts die on LinkedIn, host one Zoom roundtable and see who shows up.
You are not committing to a forever identity. You are testing for signal.
Ways to get started this week
Set a tiny schedule: one post every Tuesday for four weeks. Non-negotiable.
Reduce friction: use your phone camera and natural light, write in plain text, skip the branding.
Time-box decisions: 20 minutes to name it, 30 minutes to outline, 60 minutes to produce, ship.
Borrow an audience: guest on a friend’s podcast, cross-post a snippet on LinkedIn, ask for one share.
Track inputs, not outcomes: did you ship, yes or no.
Try this
Share your first piece with me or with a peer and ask for one suggestion you can implement in 15 minutes.
If you have already shipped something, post a behind-the-scenes note about what you learned. People love the process.
Wrap-up
Ready. Fire. Aim is not recklessness. It is strategic speed. You learn in public, iterate in the open, and let reality refine your idea. Planning matters, but shipping beats scheming every time.
Start with what you have, where you are, in the next 48 hours. You can upgrade the look later. You cannot iterate on something that does not exist.
You do not need permission. You need a publish button.