You Gotta Be Brave Before You Can Be Good

The First Time I Realized Effort Wasn’t Enough

I remember my first table tennis tournament in the South Bay, in Milpitas. When I walked into the venue, I was struck by how young everyone was. Mostly kids. Some barely in their teens.

My first match was against a kid named Kevin. His parents and his coach were watching from behind the court. As we warmed up, I caught myself wondering if I should go easy on him. Later, I realized he was probably thinking the same thing about me.

Thirty minutes later, I shook his hand and felt something drop in my chest. I had given everything I had. It wasn’t close. He was simply better.

When Performance Replaces Learning

It wasn’t the losing that bothered me. It was what happened during the game.

I remember a rally where the ball was going to my wide right-hand corner. Instead of playing a safe shot, I went for a Hollywood shot. A great-looking, low-percentage choice. I felt like my rallies needed to be impressive to show that I was a good player.

After missing it, I overcompensated. I played the next few shots too conservatively, losing trust in my game.

On match point, I ran from corner to corner trying to stay alive, only to receive a big smash. I looked down at my shoes, panting, and asked myself, What am I doing?

Becoming a Player, Not a Performer

As I looked up and saw Kevin’s mom clapping for his point, something shifted. I remembered I was there to be a player, not a performer.

The match wasn’t asking me to impress anyone.
It was asking me to engage the opponent in front of me.

I started seeing rallies differently. Instead of returning shots aimlessly, I paid attention. I noticed how Kevin was patiently targeting my weakness, my backhand. I tried to compensate by pivoting into my forehand when I could. It helped at times. It wasn’t enough. The score made that clear.

Standing there, slightly calmer than before, a quiet thought surfaced:

You gotta be brave before you can be good.

Letting Myself Be a Beginner Again

That shift of mindset followed me.

I had always wanted to try yoga, but I worried I’d be judged for being a beginner. This time, I listened to that quiet thought and showed up anyway. Normally, I would have made an excuse and stayed home.

I wasn’t there to impress anyone. I was there to learn.
That was what bravery looked like.

Once I let go of the need to perform, something opened up. I enjoyed the class, even knowing I was less flexible than most people in the room.

Where This Shows Up in Real Life

The same tension shows up in more places than I realize. It shows up at work. It shows up in dating.

When I feel an expectation placed on me, I slip back into performance mode, trying to live up to it.

What I’ve started to notice is that bravery isn’t about impressing. It’s about staying open. About being willing to learn from the moment you’re in.

When I choose to stay a student, I learn more than I expect.

Where Could You Stay a Student?

1. Where in your life do you feel pressure to look competent?
2. What changes in your behavior when that pressure shows up?
3. What might open up if you allowed yourself to be a student there instead?