Start Ugly

I remember staring at a blank page for what felt like forever.

The cursor blinked, the silence buzzed, and I felt… embarrassed. Not because anyone could see my screen, but because the words in my head sounded so powerful—yet came out messy, flat, and all wrong. I wanted to write something meaningful. Instead, I started ugly.

And that, strangely enough, made all the difference.

The Myth of the Perfect Start

We’re told to “dream big,” “go for it,” and “believe in yourself.” What they don’t say—at least not loud enough—is that beginnings are often awkward, imperfect, and deeply uncomfortable.

I wanted to launch a podcast once. I had a cheap mic, no clue how to edit, and a shaky voice that cracked when I tried to sound “professional.” My first episode? Terrible. My second? Slightly less terrible. But I started.

A friend of mine waited three years to start a blog. She waited until she had the right design, the right niche, the right strategy. When she finally launched… it fizzled. Not because she wasn’t talented, but because perfection had kept her paralyzed for so long, her passion cooled.

The truth is: you don’t have to get it right. You just have to get it going.

Ugly Starts Teach You What Pretty Plans Can’t

My first attempt at public speaking ended with shaky hands and a racing heart. I forgot half my points. But I also learned I could stand in front of people and survive.

The first painting you make might look like a toddler’s art project. Your first workout might last ten minutes and leave you sore for a week. Your first business might flop. But that’s not failure—it’s fertilizer. It's where growth begins.

Because when you start ugly:

You stop waiting for the “right time.”

You stop pretending fear needs to be gone before you begin.

You get to learn by doing—which is the only real way we ever get better.

When I Almost Didn't Start

A few years ago, I wanted to run my first 5K. I wasn’t a runner. I wasn’t even active. I didn’t have the right shoes, the right body, or the right confidence. I thought maybe I’d be ready after I lost ten pounds, or after I trained for six months, or after I stopped feeling scared.

Then I realized: I’d never feel ready. So I signed up anyway.

My first run? I jogged for 90 seconds and had to walk the rest of the way. I was out of breath, sweating buckets, and totally embarrassed.

But the next day I tried again. And the next. Eight weeks later, I ran that 5K—not fast, not elegantly—but I finished. And I cried when I crossed the finish line. Not because I was proud of my time, but because I didn’t let “ugly” stop me from starting.

What Happens When You Start Ugly

When you start ugly, something shifts. You stop trying to impress and start trying to grow. You stop comparing your chapter one to someone else's chapter twenty. You get your hands dirty. You stumble, laugh at yourself, and learn things no YouTube tutorial or online course can teach you.

Most importantly, you give yourself permission to evolve.

The messy sketch turns into art. The clunky sentence becomes a story. The unsteady step turns into a dance.

A Letter to You, From Someone Who Started Ugly

If you're waiting to start—writing, painting, building, creating, healing—whatever it is: stop waiting for perfection. It doesn’t exist.

Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.

Even if it’s ugly.

Especially if it’s ugly.

Because that’s how all the beautiful things begin.

Moral of the Story:

"The most important part of any journey isn’t how you start—it’s that you start. Let ugly be your beginning, not your barrier."

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Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi