The one surprising thing no online course could teach me

Have you ever signed up for a course that promises to turn you into an overnight entrepreneur? But then you never act on what you learned?

Or signed up for a new gym that promises to revolutionize your workout like never before? But then you never end up going? Ever wondered why this merry-go-round never amounts to much?

I think I’ve finally figured out why.

For years I’ve wanted to quit my job. Likewise, for years I’ve wanted to get in shape. But, up to very recently, leaving my 9–5 job was not possible, so I managed to repress my feelings about this.

As a result, I only had to wrestle with my desire to get into better shape spurred on by some summer body nonsense.

Subsequently, I would just get another gym membership and feel fantastic about it. The mere act of purchasing an overpriced gym membership made me feel like I’ve already attained my goal.

By committing to paying for something, there is no way I would not use it and magically arrive at my goal, right? And this may come as no surprise then — I never went to the gym.

As the feeling of guilt would grow, I would rationalize how a gym isn’t my thing after all. I would switch to trying out yoga or buy some expensive home-workout equipment. The cycle continues. The summer body never came.

Unfortunately, I found myself in the same vicious cycle when it came to online courses. In particular, the type of online course meant to prepare you for some freelancing career.

As I was nearing a time when I could quit my corporate job, I upped my shopping spree of these types of online courses. I’d race through the courses energized by the world of possibilities that await me. I’d collect online course certificates like I collected Pokémon cards as a kid.

But, with every urge of the course to go out and undertake action, I’d buy another course to try out a different career. The cycle continues.

The truth of the matter is this: the idea of actually doing the thing is scary as hell. Like showing my face in the gym, showing my face in the space outside of my conventional job is overwhelming.

What if I look stupid because I don’t know what I’m doing? Everyone else seems to be in the know.

What if someone points and laughs and leads me to abandon my ideals in shame?

What will my old colleagues say?

Will people laugh at me behind my back if I must return to a conventional 9–5 job?

I first attributed my lack of undertaking action to a mere case of procrastination. It seemed like a very reasonable explanation for my failures so far. This was until I realised it was due to something far more sinister: vulnerability.

Not showing up in the gym or online as a freelancer meant I could keep the dreams alive somehow. The world of opportunities remained something out of reach yet still a possibility in this way.

In a strange way, dwindling in the preparation phase meant I was still in control somehow. I controlled my own narrative. I haven’t failed: I just haven’t started yet.

But now, I made a pact with myself. Before I’m allowed to browse one more gym or online course: I need to flex my muscles and send this piece of writing into the world. And hopefully, break the cycle.

After all, it isn’t about having the confidence to do something perfectly at the outset. It is about having the courage to take that very first step.