There was a time when I thought courage meant doing something big.
Leaping before I was ready. Speaking when my voice shook. Posting the thing I was terrified people might judge.
I believed courage was a burst of energy; a powerful, dramatic moment that proved I was brave enough to chase my dreams. But the truth is, those moments never came when I expected them to. Instead, what I found was a quieter kind of courage. The kind that doesn’t announce itself. The kind that whispers, try again, even if no one’s watching.
For a long time, I didn’t recognise that whisper. I mistook it for hesitation or fear. I’d tell myself I needed to feel “ready” before taking the next step, but readiness never arrived. What eventually helped wasn’t a big breakthrough. It was one small, doable action after another.
The myth of being ready
We wait for confidence to appear, thinking it will give us permission to begin.
But confidence doesn’t precede action; it grows because of it.
There’s this subtle moment before every new beginning where you can feel your whole body resist. The mind races, the self-doubt creeps in, and you start listing reasons why it might be safer to stay still. I used to see that as failure; as proof that I wasn’t courageous enough. Now I see it as the invitation itself.
Fear isn’t the enemy of courage; it’s often the door to it.
Each time I’ve started something new, whether it was sharing a piece of writing, launching a project, or simply saying “yes” to myself, there was always that moment of resistance. What changed wasn’t that the fear disappeared, but that I learned to take smaller steps. Steps so small they felt almost too easy to fail at.
And that was the point.
The power of tiny steps
There’s something deeply healing about gentleness. When you stop trying to prove your courage through grand gestures and start building it in small, compassionate ways, everything shifts.
Instead of asking, “How can I change everything at once?” you start asking, “What’s one kind thing I can do for myself today?”
One small step might be journalling for five minutes instead of forcing an hour.
It might be tidying your desk so it feels like a place you want to create again.
It might be reaching out to one person who makes you feel seen.
These acts may not look impressive from the outside, but they create quiet momentum inside you. They remind you that you’re capable of showing up, not perfectly, but consistently.
That’s what courage really is: self-trust built in tiny, repeatable ways.
When courage feels slow
There are days when even small steps feel heavy. Days when you question whether any of it matters, whether you’re just circling the same doubts.
I’ve been there too.
What I’ve learned in those moments is that courage doesn’t mean feeling strong all the time. Sometimes it means admitting you’re tired, pausing for breath, and still choosing to begin again tomorrow.
You don’t lose your courage when you slow down. You lose it when you forget that gentleness counts.
Redefining progress
We live in a world that glorifies breakthroughs, the viral moment, the big transformation, the before-and-after story. But the truth is, most of our growth happens quietly.
It happens when no one’s watching. When you decide to speak a little more honestly. When you give yourself grace for not doing everything perfectly. When you keep your heart open after disappointment.
That’s courage. Not the kind that shouts, but the kind that quietly reshapes who you are becoming.
When I look back, it wasn’t the big leaps that changed my life. It was the accumulation of small moments — the nights I wrote even when I doubted my words, the mornings I chose self-kindness over perfection, the times I dared to share something tender.
Those moments built a foundation stronger than any single act of bravery could.
A gentle invitation
If you’re in a season where courage feels far away, start small.
Pick one thing that reconnects you to yourself — something that helps you feel grounded, safe, and present.
It could be journalling, walking, stretching, or simply taking a quiet moment to breathe before your day begins. Don’t underestimate how powerful those small choices are. They teach your nervous system that safety and courage can coexist.
When you begin from that place, bravery doesn’t feel like a performance. It feels like a homecoming.
That’s what inspired me to create my 7 Days of Gentle Courage journal (a printable mini companion for those times when you want to start again softly, without pressure or perfection).
It’s a short, reflective practice you can return to whenever you need to rebuild trust with yourself. Seven days, seven small steps, one gentle reset.
If that sounds like something your heart’s been asking for, you can explore it here.
And wherever you are right now, whether you’re pausing, beginning, or somewhere in between. Remember: courage isn’t something you have to earn. It’s something you nurture, one small act at a time.
Ready to Go Deeper?
If you are ready to stop overthinking and start creating from self trust, this is exactly what we explore together inside my 1:1 coaching sessions. Let us bring your vision to life in a way that feels aligned, grounded, and completely yours. Book a Session here.
With much love, Maria.
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