Start Scared. Start Nervous. But Start.
I remember the exact moment I saw the juice bombs.
I had written out the whole concept months earlier — freshly juiced vegetables frozen into a single-serve ball you could drop into water and let dissolve. Your juice, ready in minutes, no juicer required. I wrote it down, thought about it, and then quietly decided it was a silly idea. I moved on.
Six months later I was in the freezer aisle looking for blueberries and there they were. Perfectly formed, single-serve, exactly what I had written down. My first thought was “not again”.
But here is what I have learned to do with that feeling instead of letting it flatten me: someone saw the same problem I saw and they followed through. That is not a story about someone stealing my idea. That is a story about what happens when you do not take yourself seriously enough to act. The product was going to exist either way — because it solved a real problem. The only question was whether my name would be on it.
THE IDEAS YOU DISMISSED AS SILLY
The juice bombs were not the only one. Years ago I had an idea for a handheld device that could braid hair — three strands, threaded through, done. I thought it was ridiculous. I never wrote it beyond the thought. This year I saw that exact product on Instagram with over a million views.
I have learned to distinguish between two kinds of ideas. The ones I did not execute because they were not truly mine — not rooted in a real passion, just a problem I noticed — and the ones I did not execute because I was afraid. The hair braider fell into the first category. The juice delivery service, the book, Earthkiss — those fell into the second.
Every idea that solves a real problem will eventually become a product. The only variable is who builds it. And that variable is entirely up to you.
The expensive lesson is not the missed idea. The expensive lesson is the pattern of not trusting yourself — and watching someone else profit from your instincts over and over again until you finally decide to stop.
THE MOMENT I STOPPED FITTING INTO OTHER PEOPLE'S SPACES
I have written about the job interview before — the one where my glasses fogged up from a hot flash right in the middle of a critical question. What I have not fully said is what that moment cost me emotionally.
I had prepared for that interview like it was a final exam. I wanted the role. I would have loved to learn in that environment, to grow in that area of finance. But to get it I would have had to suppress parts of myself that did not fit the room — oversell what I considered weaknesses, minimize the parts of my story that made me who I am.
When I took off my glasses and took that breath, something broke open. Not in a destructive way. In a clarifying way. I realized I had spent years performing versions of myself for spaces that were never going to fully hold me. I had reasons for doing it — my son, financial reality, the practicalities of survival. Those were legitimate. But I was done.
I decided in that moment that I would never be embarrassed by who I am again. A hot flash is part of my story. My story is exactly what I am building from. I am not hiding it — I am leading with it.
There is a difference between making money and building a life you are genuinely happy living. I chose the latter. Late — but not too late.
WHAT BOOTSTRAPPING ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE FROM THE INSIDE
People hear the word ‘bootstrapping’ and think it means building with your own money. That is part of it. But it is not the whole thing.
Bootstrapping is taking a vision that no one else can see yet and building it to the point where someone with capital can finally see enough of it to believe in it too. It is continuing to execute on days when you have no results to show for it. It is motivation and inspiration coming and going like clouds — and building systems so that the work happens anyway, whether you feel inspired or not.
Right now bootstrapping looks like: getting up before the world starts, reading for two hours, going to the gym, sitting down at the computer and working in focused blocks. It looks like back-and-forth emails with vendors about label specifications. It looks like writing blogs that no one may read yet, recording content that feels into a void, building an ecosystem that will not fully reveal itself for months.
Entrepreneurship is not 'I can do what I want with my time.' It is using your time so precisely and intentionally that every hour compounds toward something that does not exist yet.
The most important thing I want women to understand about what building looks like from the inside is this: it starts with a decision. You decide — and then you do not revisit the decision. You just execute. And it requires becoming someone you have not fully been yet, which means some people who knew the old version of you will not recognize what you are becoming. That is not a loss. That is the process.
'READY' IS A DEAL YOU MADE WITH PROCRASTINATION
Ready is a moving target that exists specifically to keep you in place. We tell ourselves we will start when we have more money, more time, more clarity, more confidence. We will launch when all the pieces are aligned. We will share when we feel prepared enough.
That is not a strategy. That is a very comfortable story about why today is not the day.
I know this because I lived it. And I know the antidote because I lived that too.
The most satisfying moment I have experienced as a creator was not a revenue milestone or a media mention. It was three in the morning, frustrated and wide awake, deciding I was going to write a book. I did not know how it would end. I did not have an outline. I just decided — and I did not look back and ask myself if it was silly. I executed. And the day I pressed upload on my Barnes and Noble author page I felt something I had not felt in a long time: I kept my word to myself.
The second most satisfying moment was stopping the UPS driver when I knew my books were arriving. Splitting that tape. Holding a physical object that had been nothing but a thought two years before.
Everything is created twice — first in the mind, then in the physical world. The second never happens without the first. And the first means nothing without the decision to build.
A LETTER TO THE WOMAN SITTING ON HER IDEA
I know you are reading this right now with something in the back of your mind. An idea you got excited about once and then quietly put away. Something you wrote in a planner, built a New Year's resolution around, and then let another year pass without touching.
I am not here to judge you for that. I did it too. For years. And I want to tell you what that costs — not to scare you, but because you deserve to hear it plainly.
The pain of regret is heavier than the pain of trying and failing. Every year that passes without you acting is a year someone else is building what you envisioned. Your time is the most valuable asset you have. Wasting it costs you your future, your legacy, and the financial freedom you keep saying you want.
The fear of failure is real. I will not pretend it is not. It is paralyzing. But it is not true. Failure is not final. Inaction is.
The only cure for fear and procrastination is movement. You do not have to know where you are going. You do not have to have it figured out. You move — even if the direction is imperfect — because moving tells you things that standing still never will. You find out faster what works and what does not. You build momentum that makes the next step easier than the last.
Shut out the critics. Shut out the embarrassment. Shut out the people who will think it is too much or too late or too ambitious. They are not your audience and they are not your business.
Ask yourself every morning: why am I standing in my own way? And then ask: what do I need to do today to get past it? Sit with those questions. Listen. Write down what comes. Then act.
That is the whole system. It is not complicated. It is just harder than waiting — and infinitely more worth it.
Your Turn
What are you waiting for? Permission? A sign? This is it. Start scared. Start nervous. But start!