A blog by Pepetoe.

We’re taught, in quiet and not-so-quiet ways, that we need to be “better” before we begin. Better at coping. Better at managing our emotions. Better at being consistent, disciplined, healed. Like there’s this invisible checklist we think we need to complete before we’re allowed to start something new, whether that’s recovery, a relationship, a dream, a boundary, or even just a different way of thinking about ourselves. And until we tick every box, we wait. We apologise. We shrink ourselves down. We say things like, “I’m not ready yet,” or “Sorry, I’m still figuring things out,” as if being human is something that requires an explanation.

But readiness is a myth we use to protect ourselves from fear.

Because if we admit we don’t need to be fully ready, then we also have to admit we might just be scared. Scared of failing. Scared of being seen trying. Scared of not doing it perfectly. So instead of risking it, we convince ourselves we need more time. More confidence. More certainty. And in that waiting, we quietly start believing that who we are right now isn’t enough to begin.

The truth is, growth doesn’t happen before you try. It happens because you try. You don’t become confident and then take the leap. You take the leap, and confidence slowly builds around it. You don’t heal completely and then start living. You start living, and healing meets you there.

You don’t have to be sorry for being in progress.
You don’t have to be ready to move.
You just have to try.

After I left a period of my life that felt heavy (recovery, burnout, a relationship, or just a version of myself that didn’t fit anymore) I kept telling myself, “I’ll start properly when I feel more stable.”

More stable. More confident. More sure.

I thought there would be this clear moment where everything inside me would click into place and I’d suddenly feel ready to move forward.

It never came.

What did come though were small, uncomfortable opportunities to try. To send the email even though I felt “underqualified”. To go to the event even though my anxiety was loud. To eat the meal even though my brain was negotiating or screaming at me to stop. To speak honestly even though my voice shook a little.

None of those moments felt like strength.
They felt like exposure.

And that’s the part no one really talks about, that trying feels vulnerable before it feels empowering. And it feels like that for quite some time.

We glamorise growth as this bold, cinematic thing. But most of the time it looks like sitting on the edge of your bed, heart racing, deciding to show up anyway. It looks like replying to a message when you’d rather disappear. It looks like applying for something and hovering over the “submit” button for a whole day.

Trying is rarely aesthetic.

But it’s honest.

For so long, I apologised for not being “further along.” I apologised for still struggling with things I thought I should have mastered by now. I apologised for needing reassurance. For needing rest. For needing more time.

And when you constantly apologise for your humanity, you start to believe it’s inconvenient.

The shift didn’t happen when I suddenly felt fearless. It happened when I realised that fear didn’t disqualify me from moving. I could be unsure and still take a step. I could be healing and still start something new. I could be tired and still try gently.

That’s the difference.

Trying doesn’t require you to override your nervous system or become a completely different person. It just asks for one small action that nudges you forward instead of back.

Sometimes trying is big.
Sometimes it’s tiny.

Sometimes it’s rebuilding your whole life.
Sometimes it’s brushing your hair and calling that progress.

And especially in recovery, or any kind of personal growth, the idea that you need to be fully healed before you live is a trap. You don’t need to be perfectly at peace with your body before you wear the outfit. You don’t need to be completely confident before you date again. You don’t need to be 100% certain before you chase something that scares you.

You’re allowed to be in progress and still participate in your own life.

The irony is that confidence, resilience, and clarity are usually built through the very things we’re waiting to feel ready for.

You build self-trust by proving to yourself, over and over, that you’ll try again.
You build courage by surviving the wobble.
You build readiness by starting unready.

And maybe that’s the reframe.

Instead of asking, “Am I ready?”
Ask, “Am I willing to try?”

Because trying is softer. Trying leaves room for imperfection. Trying allows bad days. Trying doesn’t demand that you get it right, only that you show up.

You don’t have to be polished.
You don’t have to be fearless.
You don’t have to be past it all.

You just have to care enough about yourself to take one small step forward.

Even if your hands are shaking.
Even if you feel behind.
Even if you whisper “I’m not sure” as you do it.

That still counts.

And if no one has told you this recently: you don’t need to apologise for being a work in progress. You are allowed to begin from exactly where you are.

So this week, maybe don’t wait for clarity.
Don’t wait for motivation.
Don’t wait for the perfect mood or the perfect version of yourself.

Just try.

Softly. Imperfectly. Honestly.

That’s more than enough 🤍

Xo Pepetoe