I used to believe that the hardest part of writing was finding the right words. Later, I discovered that the harder problem was allowing myself to write the wrong ones.
I would sit in front of a clean page and try to imagine the whole book. I wanted to know where the story would begin, how the chapters would fit together, and what readers would remember when they reached the end. Since I could not answer all those questions, the first sentence carried an impossible burden.
It had to prove that the book was worth writing.
I would write a few lines, read them, and immediately notice what was missing. The opening was not strong enough. The idea was not clear enough. The voice did not sound like the author I hoped to become.
So I would crumple the page and start again.
At the time, I thought I was improving the work. In truth, I was preventing the work from beginning.
Overthinking begins when the first step carries the whole future
We usually overthink the first step because we are not thinking only about the first step. We are thinking about everything that might follow.
If you want to start a business, you may already be worrying about the name, the money, the website, the customers, the competition, and whether the business will still exist five years from now. If you want to speak in public, you may imagine forgetting your words, disappointing the audience, or discovering that you are not as good as you hoped.
The action in front of you may be small, but your mind connects it to every possible consequence. One email begins to feel like a career decision. One conversation begins to feel like a test of your leadership. One page begins to feel like a verdict on whether you are a real writer.
No wonder you hesitate.
You are not merely taking one step. In your imagination, you are being asked to guarantee the entire journey.
Separate the decision to begin from the decision to continue
One thing that helped me was learning that I did not have to commit to everything before trying something.
I could write one page without promising to finish a book. I could test one idea without announcing a new business. I could deliver one speech without deciding that professional speaking would become my life.
The first move is not a lifetime contract. It is a way of gathering information.
This distinction matters because overthinking often comes from asking questions that the first step cannot answer. Will this idea succeed? Will people approve? Is this the right career? Can I sustain this for ten years?
Those questions may matter later. But at the beginning, they are often too large to be useful.
A better question is, “What will this small action help me learn?”
That question moves you away from prediction and toward discovery.
Make the step smaller, but keep it real
When I struggled to write, I eventually stopped asking myself to produce a chapter. I asked myself to write one honest sentence.
That sentence did not have to impress anyone. It did not need to survive the final edit. It only had to give me something I could respond to.
Once the sentence existed, I could ask whether it was true. I could explain it, challenge it, or connect it to a story. The first sentence led to a second, and the second helped me understand what the first one had been trying to say.
The page did not become easier because I suddenly felt confident. It became easier because I had stopped asking the first sentence to prove too much.
This is where many people make a mistake. They are told to “start small,” so they choose actions that feel safe but do not create movement. They buy another notebook, watch another video, or make another plan. These activities may be useful, but they can also become comfortable substitutes for the real work.
The step should be small enough to begin, but real enough to teach you something.
Write the paragraph. Speak to one customer. Send the proposal. Ask the question. Walk outside.
The action does not need to be large. It needs to create contact with reality.
Give yourself permission to produce a poor first version
Overthinking often hides a desire to protect yourself from embarrassment. You want the first attempt to look as though it came from someone who has already mastered the work.
But first attempts rarely look that way.
The first speech may be uneven. The first offer may be unclear. The first article may contain ideas you later remove. This is not proof that you should have waited. It is proof that you have entered the stage where improvement becomes possible.
You cannot revise a speech you never give. You cannot improve an offer no customer has seen. You cannot edit a page that remains blank.
Really.
Perfectionism promises protection, but what it usually protects is your distance from the work. As long as you do not begin, no one can reject the result. Unfortunately, no one can respond to it, use it, improve it, or help it grow either.
The imperfect first move is not the enemy of good work. It is the raw material from which good work is made.
Put a boundary around the thinking
Thinking is useful. Endless thinking is not.
Before acting, decide what you genuinely need to know. Some decisions require research, caution, and expert advice. You should not make a major financial, medical, legal, or safety decision simply to prove that you can move quickly.
But many first steps do not carry that level of risk. Writing a draft, asking for feedback, speaking to a possible customer, or testing a simple version of an idea can often be reversed or improved.
For these actions, give your thinking a limit.
You might give yourself twenty minutes to list the risks, identify what you need, and choose the next action. When the time ends, make the smallest sensible move available.
A boundary prevents thinking from quietly turning into avoidance.
Ask what you are trying to protect
Sometimes the problem is not confusion. You already know the first step, but you do not want to face what might happen after you take it.
You may be protecting yourself from failure. But you may also be protecting yourself from judgment, responsibility, or success.
If you send the proposal and the client says yes, you will have to deliver. If you publish the article and people respond, you may have to keep writing. If you speak honestly to your team, the conversation may change your relationship with them.
Overthinking allows you to remain in the safe space between intention and participation. You can still imagine the future without having to answer to it.
Once you see what you are protecting, you can design a first move that introduces manageable exposure. Instead of launching publicly, test the idea with three people. Instead of committing to a year, try it for one week. Instead of giving a one-hour speech, begin with ten minutes before a small group.
You do not have to defeat every fear at once. You only need to stop giving fear complete control of the next decision.
Let action answer some of your questions
I once believed that I needed clarity before I could move. Writing taught me otherwise.
As I wrote, I discovered what I thought. Stories returned. Connections appeared. Questions I had never considered began to shape the work.
The clarity did not arrive before the action. Much of it came because of the action.
This happens in business, leadership, speaking, and life. You speak to a customer and learn that the problem is different from what you imagined. You lead the meeting and discover that the team needs direction, not another presentation. You take the walk and learn what your body can do today.
Action does not answer every question. It answers the questions that cannot be solved from a distance.
That is why the goal of the first step is not to guarantee success. Its purpose is to create better information for the second step.
Choose one move that changes what you know
When you notice yourself overthinking, write down the decision in front of you. Then remove everything that does not need to be decided today.
You do not need to decide whether the business will succeed. You may only need to speak to one customer.
You do not need to decide whether you can write a book. You may only need to write one page.
You do not need to decide whether you are ready to become a leader. You may only need to have one conversation you have been avoiding.
Then ask, “What action would give me useful evidence?”
Choose that action.
Make it small enough that fear cannot build an entire fortress around it, but real enough that something will be different after you do it. You should know more, see more, or have something you can improve.
This is what I call Move First. You begin where you are, make the smallest honest move, and allow action to reveal what thinking alone cannot.
It is one of the messages I share as a motivational speaker in the Philippines. I do not want people to leave a speech simply feeling brave. I want them to see the action they can take before doubt has enough time to rebuild the wall.
You may not need to stop thinking.
You may only need to stop asking the first step to answer every question.
About Jef Menguin
Jef Menguin is a Filipino motivational speaker, leadership consultant, and creator of Move First. He helps leaders, teams, professionals, and students turn hesitation into meaningful action through memorable stories, practical shifts, and one meaningful move.
Explore Jef’s Move First motivational speeches or connect with him on LinkedIn.