Inquisitive.me

I learned to ski when I was three or four. Snowboarding came later—early teens, maybe twelve or thirteen. I don’t remember exactly. What I do remember is that at some point snowboarding became my thing, and skiing slowly faded into the past. For almost a decade, I didn’t touch skis at all.

Then one winter, while working as a snowboard instructor, I casually mentioned that I’d love to try skiing again. A colleague immediately offered me her son’s equipment and suggested we use our lunch break to give it a go. She even came with me to help.

And suddenly I was terrified.

Not because I thought I couldn’t do it—I knew I still had the basics buried somewhere in muscle memory. I was scared of what people might think. What if my students saw me struggle? What if strangers watched me wobble down the slope and wondered how an instructor could look so insecure? They wouldn’t know I was “just a snowboarder.” They’d only see an instructor who couldn’t ski. Embarrassing.

My boss wasn’t thrilled either. He didn’t want me out there on skis making the school look bad. Great for my nerves, right?

But my colleague kept nudging. She reminded me that when she learned snowboarding in her late forties, nobody cared. Students watched her struggle—and instead of judging, it made her more relatable. Everyone else? They were far too busy with themselves.

That’s when it hit me:

Nobody cares as much as we think they do.

Not your friends. Not strangers on the slope. Not the guy at the gym. They might love you, notice you, even cheer for you—but they’re not thinking about you as intensely as you think about you. They’re wrapped up in their own world. Just like you are.

Psychologists even have a name for this: The Spotlight Effect.

A study at Cornell University showed that we dramatically overestimate how many people notice our mistakes or awkward moments. We think everyone is watching. In reality? They aren’t. And even if they do—they forget.

Think about the last time you saw a stranger embarrass themselves. Do you remember their face? Their jacket? The exact situation? Probably not. Because… nobody cares.

Back to me on skis.

The first run was wobbly and awkward. I felt like Bambi on ice. By the second and third run, things started to come back. Not perfect, not elegant, but functional. The season after, I even went to a ski instructor course—with only a few hours of practice beforehand. I still couldn’t do short turns and learned them during the course. It was fun, humbling, and memorable.

Why am I telling you this?

Because so many people are afraid to set foot in a gym for the same reason I hesitated on that slope. They don’t know how to use the machines. They don’t feel confident in their body or clothes. They think others will judge them. Especially women. Especially beginners.

But let me say it again, louder this time:

Nobody cares.

Whether you’re crushing your workout or figuring out how a machine works—nobody is tracking your every move. Maybe someone whispers. Maybe someone glances. But will they remember your face tomorrow? Highly unlikely.

So stop giving other people power they don’t even want.

Do the thing.

Try the sport.

Walk into the gym.

Put on the skis.

I can’t recall a single person watching me that day. I don’t know if anyone laughed, pointed, or judged. Maybe I was too focused on myself. Or maybe—far more likely—I just didn’t care enough to remember.

What I remember is how proud I felt after. How freeing it was. It turned into one of my favorite memories of that season.

And that’s what matters.

🧪 Let’s Experiment

---

We overestimate how much people notice us — and it holds us back.

If nobody is watching as closely as we think, then it’s safe to take a small leap. A controlled experiment. Just to see what happens.

🎯 Try This:

Pick one thing you’ve been avoiding because you’re afraid of what others might think — and do it anyway. Start small, but start.

Here are a few sparks if you need them:

• Write that story you’ve been keeping in drafts.
• Pursue the idea that keeps circling in your mind.
• Walk into the gym. Go for a run. Try the machine you’ve never touched.
• Start the weird hobby you’ve been eyeing for months.

Channel your inner Ezio Auditore — and jump. Take the leap of faith. Eagle screech.

🧠 Final Thought:

Most people are too busy with their own lives to judge yours. And those who do? They’ll forget by dinner. But you will remember the moment you jumped — and how it felt to land on your own two feet.

---

Keep it simple, stay curious, and keep learning—you’ve got this.

Take care,

Carina 🦊