You know what a close relative said when I told her I was trying to learn internet marketing full-time? "That's not a real job, Matt." I was in my 20s, earning over $120,000 per year. Walking away from more money than most people see at 40. And here's the thing that nobody tells you about taking that leap... It wasn't the money that terrified me most. It was the thought that if I failed, I'd have to go back underground. That shame of crawling back to the "safety" I'd rejected. That haunted me more than any financial fear ever could. But then something beautiful happened. I started meeting other people who'd taken their own leaps. And not one of them - not a single one - ever questioned my decision. Because here's the truth nobody talks about... The athletes understand the first painful day at the gym. The entrepreneurs understand the terror of that first sale. The artists understand the vulnerability of that first performance. There's this unspoken brotherhood (and sisterhood) among people who've actually done 'the thing'. When I meet someone who's built a business from scratch, we don't need to explain the 2am anxiety attacks. The moment when you're doing laps around your kitchen counter, your last bit of savings invested, wondering if this crazy bet on yourself will actually work. We just know. When a musician tells me about their first open mic night, I get it. Different stage, same terror. Same vulnerability. Same courage. When an athlete talks about showing up to the gym after years away, feeling judged, feeling weak, feeling like everyone's watching - mate, that's exactly how I felt sending my first marketing email. We're all just beginners at something. And the people who've been beginners before? They become your biggest champions. They see your struggle and remember their own. They see your small wins and celebrate them like championships because they know what those first victories cost. My wife Sarah and I built Goodness Lover from nothing. 45,000 people registered for our first event. But before that? We were just two people in a tiny Sydney apartment, burning through all our savings, hoping like hell this would work.