- PPF Points
- 2,100
I Did Something Scary Every Week for a Year — And, Man, Everything Shifted
Alright, picture this: beginning of last year, and I’m just… meh. Not crashing-and-burning, but living this low-key, vanilla existence. Decent job? Check. Savings? Sure. Adulting routine? Oh, you bet. But all of it felt just “fine”—which, honestly, might be the most dangerous word out there. And here’s the kicker: I was actually scared that "fine" was as good as it’d ever get.
So, yeah, terrified of staying stuck, I pulled a move even my friends called “kinda nuts”: one fear a week, every single week, for a year. That’s 52 awkward, shaky, sweat-inducing challenges. Spoiler: totally worth it.
Here’s the rundown—the wins and the facepalms—and why, if you’re even a tiny bit bored with your life, you really oughta give this a go.
Why I Let Fear Drive the Bus
Let’s stop pretending fear’s a villain. Most of us treat it like that monster under the bed, but what if it’s actually pointing you toward all the best stuff? Seriously, you ever think your fear might be onto something?
I shifted gears. I wasn’t out hunting for crazy-adrenaline or whatever. It was about finding those freaky edges where I could maybe grow. Sunday nights? That was list-making time: what can I do this week that’s gonna make me squirm? Sometimes it was work stuff, sometimes just personal hang-ups. Either way, that comfort zone got smaller. Or, maybe, I just got bigger.
Month One: Dipping a Toe in the Terror Pool
Week One: Posted my first ever video online.
I’d always wanted to, but c’mon—the internet? Full of trolls. I filmed this short bit about what helped my productivity. Hands shaking, voice doing that embarrassing warble thing, but I pressed post anyway. No one roasted me. Shocker—people were actually nice. Heck, some friends even cheered me on.
Week Two: Sent a cold email to someone I admired.
Like, major imposter syndrome going on here. Sent anyway—expecting the classic ‘left on read.’ Instead, this dude writes back, drops some wisdom, and makes me feel legit.
Week Three: Hit up an event solo.
Honestly, this is nightmare fuel for introverts. But I went to this networking thing—zero familiar faces in the crowd. Neck was sweating, but I left with a few new connections and even got invited to another event. Progress.
Week Four: Said “no.”
You’d think this would be easy. Nope, way harder than cold emails. Had to turn down a project that wasn’t my vibe. Felt like I was being difficult, but honestly? That line in the sand was overdue.
Middle Months: Upping the Stakes
After a while, my challenges leveled up. Bigger stakes, higher payoff.
Public Speaking in April.
Yeah, I agreed to talk at a meetup. My inner voice was like, “Bro, seriously??” Prepped like mad. Still, on the big day, could barely sleep. But on that stage—something magic happened. People got hyped on my topic, and the energy was wild. I walked off feeling like a superhero.
Launching an Online Mini-Course
By July, I was juiced enough to put my own thing out there. Sold a course. Was absolutely sure nobody would buy, but hey—it made $1,200 that week. Not retiring on it or whatever, but suddenly my brain believed my ideas were worth something.
Traveling Solo
Booked myself a trip alone. Ate dinner by myself, wandered random streets, talked only to strangers or, you know, nobody at all. Pretty freeing, honestly. Even got comfortable with my own company.
Brutal Conversations
Didn’t post these on Insta, but—whew—these were huge. Dug into some gnarly stuff with friends, opened up to family again. Messy, but left me less weighed down.
The Final Lap: Doing the Thing I Used to Call Impossible
Pitching Ridiculously “Big” Clients
By fall, I was aiming at the moon. Hit up clients who I thought would totally ghost me. One replied. Then another. By December? I’d doubled my income. Doing work I didn’t secretly hate, imagine that.
Hosting a Live Webinar
This was my Everest. Live freakin’ video? Me? Did it. Over 100 people tuned in and the Q&A? Utter chaos. Pre-fear me would’ve fainted; post-fear me, I was grinning like an idiot.
Dropping “I love you” First
Look, fear doesn’t just live at work. I said “I love you” first. Out loud. Bad rom-com style. Totally terrifying. And, you know what? It brought us closer in a way I can’t even explain.
What 52 Fears Taught Me
1. Scared? Push Through Anyway.
Before, fear slammed on the brakes. Now, fear is more like a flashing sign: “Yo, pay attention, this could change you.”
2. Confidence Doesn’t Arrive — You Build It.
Nobody actually wakes up “confident.” You stack it, one awkward rep at a time. More you flex that muscle, the less you find yourself chickening out.
3. Tiny Moves Make Big Waves
Not every week was fireworks, but all those bitty “fears” stacked up into something wild. You don’t realize it’s working until you look back and barely recognize yourself.
4. People Care Way Less Than You Think
Swear, after a while, I just stopped worrying about judgment. Most folks are busy worrying about themselves, anyway.
5. The You Next Year? Grateful You Did This.
Hand to heart, I’m not that stuck, small version of myself anymore. And if you’re waiting for a sign to push yourself… well, congrats, you just found it.
Alright, picture this: beginning of last year, and I’m just… meh. Not crashing-and-burning, but living this low-key, vanilla existence. Decent job? Check. Savings? Sure. Adulting routine? Oh, you bet. But all of it felt just “fine”—which, honestly, might be the most dangerous word out there. And here’s the kicker: I was actually scared that "fine" was as good as it’d ever get.
So, yeah, terrified of staying stuck, I pulled a move even my friends called “kinda nuts”: one fear a week, every single week, for a year. That’s 52 awkward, shaky, sweat-inducing challenges. Spoiler: totally worth it.
Here’s the rundown—the wins and the facepalms—and why, if you’re even a tiny bit bored with your life, you really oughta give this a go.
Why I Let Fear Drive the Bus
Let’s stop pretending fear’s a villain. Most of us treat it like that monster under the bed, but what if it’s actually pointing you toward all the best stuff? Seriously, you ever think your fear might be onto something?
I shifted gears. I wasn’t out hunting for crazy-adrenaline or whatever. It was about finding those freaky edges where I could maybe grow. Sunday nights? That was list-making time: what can I do this week that’s gonna make me squirm? Sometimes it was work stuff, sometimes just personal hang-ups. Either way, that comfort zone got smaller. Or, maybe, I just got bigger.
Month One: Dipping a Toe in the Terror Pool
Week One: Posted my first ever video online.
I’d always wanted to, but c’mon—the internet? Full of trolls. I filmed this short bit about what helped my productivity. Hands shaking, voice doing that embarrassing warble thing, but I pressed post anyway. No one roasted me. Shocker—people were actually nice. Heck, some friends even cheered me on.
Week Two: Sent a cold email to someone I admired.
Like, major imposter syndrome going on here. Sent anyway—expecting the classic ‘left on read.’ Instead, this dude writes back, drops some wisdom, and makes me feel legit.
Week Three: Hit up an event solo.
Honestly, this is nightmare fuel for introverts. But I went to this networking thing—zero familiar faces in the crowd. Neck was sweating, but I left with a few new connections and even got invited to another event. Progress.
Week Four: Said “no.”
You’d think this would be easy. Nope, way harder than cold emails. Had to turn down a project that wasn’t my vibe. Felt like I was being difficult, but honestly? That line in the sand was overdue.
Middle Months: Upping the Stakes
After a while, my challenges leveled up. Bigger stakes, higher payoff.
Public Speaking in April.
Yeah, I agreed to talk at a meetup. My inner voice was like, “Bro, seriously??” Prepped like mad. Still, on the big day, could barely sleep. But on that stage—something magic happened. People got hyped on my topic, and the energy was wild. I walked off feeling like a superhero.
Launching an Online Mini-Course
By July, I was juiced enough to put my own thing out there. Sold a course. Was absolutely sure nobody would buy, but hey—it made $1,200 that week. Not retiring on it or whatever, but suddenly my brain believed my ideas were worth something.
Traveling Solo
Booked myself a trip alone. Ate dinner by myself, wandered random streets, talked only to strangers or, you know, nobody at all. Pretty freeing, honestly. Even got comfortable with my own company.
Brutal Conversations
Didn’t post these on Insta, but—whew—these were huge. Dug into some gnarly stuff with friends, opened up to family again. Messy, but left me less weighed down.
The Final Lap: Doing the Thing I Used to Call Impossible
Pitching Ridiculously “Big” Clients
By fall, I was aiming at the moon. Hit up clients who I thought would totally ghost me. One replied. Then another. By December? I’d doubled my income. Doing work I didn’t secretly hate, imagine that.
Hosting a Live Webinar
This was my Everest. Live freakin’ video? Me? Did it. Over 100 people tuned in and the Q&A? Utter chaos. Pre-fear me would’ve fainted; post-fear me, I was grinning like an idiot.
Dropping “I love you” First
Look, fear doesn’t just live at work. I said “I love you” first. Out loud. Bad rom-com style. Totally terrifying. And, you know what? It brought us closer in a way I can’t even explain.
What 52 Fears Taught Me
1. Scared? Push Through Anyway.
Before, fear slammed on the brakes. Now, fear is more like a flashing sign: “Yo, pay attention, this could change you.”
2. Confidence Doesn’t Arrive — You Build It.
Nobody actually wakes up “confident.” You stack it, one awkward rep at a time. More you flex that muscle, the less you find yourself chickening out.
3. Tiny Moves Make Big Waves
Not every week was fireworks, but all those bitty “fears” stacked up into something wild. You don’t realize it’s working until you look back and barely recognize yourself.
4. People Care Way Less Than You Think
Swear, after a while, I just stopped worrying about judgment. Most folks are busy worrying about themselves, anyway.
5. The You Next Year? Grateful You Did This.
Hand to heart, I’m not that stuck, small version of myself anymore. And if you’re waiting for a sign to push yourself… well, congrats, you just found it.
