From “Fear of Interaction” to “Confident

From "Fear of Interaction" to "Confident Response": It's Okay to Be Inexperienced—Action Creates New Perspectives

Last week, my friend Alex sighed over coffee: "Our team hit a snag at work. It wasn't my fault, but I didn't know how to explain it to my colleagues, so I just took the blame. Another time, a client threw a curveball request, and my mind went blank. All I could say was, 'Let me think about it.' Later, I realized there were three ways to solve it." He paused. "At the end of the day, I just haven't seen enough—neither how others handle tricky relationships, nor how to think on my feet in tough situations."

His words reminded me of my first months in a big city. At my first networking event, while others exchanged business cards with ease, I was so nervous I crumpled mine. When coworkers had subtle disagreements, I froze, unable to even suggest, "Let's hear both sides first." Back then, I thought my "ineptitude" was a personal flaw, a kind of "social awkwardness" I was born with. But over time, I realized that being "inexperienced" isn't a failure—it's just a natural part of everyone's learning journey.

Many of us start as "small-town newcomers": growing up, our relationships were straightforward—family, friends, classmates. We never saw the give-and-take of workplace collaboration, the negotiation between strangers, or the art of thinking outside the box. It's like someone who's only ever seen flat plains suddenly facing a mountain—it's not a lack of ability, just a lack of a mental map for "mountain roads."

But being inexperienced isn't a permanent setback. What really holds us back isn't "not knowing," but "fearing to know." Some people, after one awkward social misstep, avoid complex conversations forever. Others, after one mental block, decide they're "just not creative." But learning to ride a bike isn't about avoiding obstacles—it's about falling, seeing different paths, and gradually mastering balance and direction.

Becoming a more capable adult isn't about waiting until you're "ready." It's about learning as you go. If you're afraid of handling people, start by observing: watch how good communicators listen and respond. Jot down how they defuse tension or solve problems, and try their approaches next time. Stuck on a problem? Ask yourself, "What would [someone you admire] do?" That "someone" could be a mentor, a fictional character, or even your future, more confident self—use their perspective to spark new ideas.

I know a senior colleague who was once a "people novice." To improve, he did something simple but powerful: after every meeting or social event, he spent 10 minutes writing a "debrief." He noted "high-EQ moments" and problem-solving strategies. For example: "Today, Sarah responded to criticism with, 'I see your point; let's try this instead,' which worked better than arguing," or "When the project stalled, Mark listed our resources and core needs before brainstorming solutions, which clarified our next steps." Six months later, he was navigating cross-team conflicts with ease and solving problems that once seemed impossible.

Being inexperienced is like having a puzzle with missing pieces. That's okay—you can find them one by one. Every time you listen to someone else's approach, you add a piece to your "people skills puzzle." Every time you try a new problem-solving method, you add a piece to your "thinking skills puzzle." Gradually, the situations that once made you panic become "familiar territory," and the problems that once stumped you become "solvable challenges."

Don't let inexperience make you anxious, and don't wait until you're "fully prepared" to act. Becoming a better adult isn't a test you need to ace before you start—it's a journey where you pick up tools along the way. Even if today you only learn one polite response, or think of one new angle for a problem, you're moving forward. After all, the wind you feel when you're running will always blow away the confusion of "not knowing." Every step you take becomes part of your new experience—and your new landscape.

English Blog Version: "From Fear to Confidence: How Action Turns Inexperience into Growth"

Have you ever frozen in a conversation, blanked during a tough question, or taken the blame for something that wasn't your fault—just because you didn't know how to respond?

Last week, my friend Alex shared his frustration: "Our team hit a snag, and even though it wasn't my fault, I didn't know how to explain it to my coworkers. I just took the blame. Another time, a client asked a tricky question, and my mind went blank. All I could say was, 'Let me think about it.' Later, I realized there were three ways to solve it." He paused. "I just haven't seen enough—I don't know how others handle these situations, and I don't have enough practice thinking on my feet."

His words took me back to my first months in a new city. At my first networking event, while others exchanged business cards with ease, I was so nervous I crumpled mine. When coworkers had disagreements, I stood there helpless, unable to even suggest, "Let's hear both sides first." Back then, I thought my awkwardness was a personal flaw, a kind of "social ineptitude" I was stuck with. But over time, I realized that being inexperienced isn't a failure—it's just a natural part of everyone's learning journey.

Many of us start as "rookies": growing up, our relationships were simple—family, friends, classmates. We never saw the give-and-take of workplace collaboration, the negotiation between strangers, or the art of thinking outside the box. It's like someone who's only ever seen flat roads suddenly facing a mountain—it's not a lack of ability, just a lack of a mental map for "mountain paths."

But being inexperienced isn't a permanent setback. What really holds us back isn't "not knowing," but "fearing to know." Some people, after one awkward social misstep, avoid complex conversations forever. Others, after one mental block, decide they're "just not creative." But learning to ride a bike isn't about avoiding obstacles—it's about falling, seeing different paths, and gradually mastering balance and direction.

Becoming more confident isn't about waiting until you're "ready." It's about learning as you go. If you're afraid of handling people, start by observing: watch how good communicators listen and respond. Jot down how they defuse tension or solve problems, and try their approaches next time. Stuck on a problem? Ask yourself, "What would [someone you admire] do?" That "someone" could be a mentor, a fictional character, or even your future, more confident self—use their perspective to spark new ideas.

I know a senior colleague who was once a "people novice." To improve, he did something simple but powerful: after every meeting or social event, he spent 10 minutes writing a "debrief." He noted "high-EQ moments" and problem-solving strategies. For example: "Today, Sarah responded to criticism with, 'I see your point; let's try this instead,' which worked better than arguing," or "When the project stalled, Mark listed our resources and core needs before brainstorming solutions, which clarified our next steps." Six months later, he was navigating cross-team conflicts with ease and solving problems that once seemed impossible.

Being inexperienced is like having a puzzle with missing pieces. That's okay—you can find them one by one. Every time you listen to someone else's approach, you add a piece to your "people skills puzzle." Every time you try a new problem-solving method, you add a piece to your "thinking skills puzzle." Gradually, the situations that once made you panic become "familiar territory," and the problems that once stumped you become "solvable challenges."

Don't let inexperience make you anxious, and don't wait until you're "fully prepared" to act. Becoming more confident isn't a test you need to ace before you start—it's a journey where you pick up tools along the way. Even if today you only learn one polite response, or think of one new angle for a problem, you're moving forward. After all, the wind you feel when you're running will always blow away the confusion of "not knowing." Every step you take becomes part of your new experience—and your new landscape.