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Nobody cares

4 min read

My first episode

When we shot the first episode of the Consistent Sai podcast, I was shaking.

The camera is scary. Especially when you have to sit there and talk. My friend Darren kept saying, “Mahapa, calm down. Speak to me. Take it easy.”

We took the whole day just to shoot 20 minutes.

I had wanted to start a podcast for years. But I kept thinking: what if people don’t find what I have to say valuable? Who am I to say this? People will probably think I suck. I’m an introvert.

Before I had even recorded anything, I was already worried about the reviews.

And this wasn’t my first time putting something out there.

Before Consistent Sai, there was Sai

For those who don’t know, I was a rapper. Called Sai.

13 years ago, I went to the studio, recorded a song called Illegal Businesses and uploaded it to SoundCloud.

Only 61 people ever played it.

My friends told me that I suck.

So I can’t sit here and tell you that nobody will judge you. My friends actually listened and gave their review. Unfortunately.

But I bet most of them haven’t thought about that song in years. Meanwhile, here I am, still telling you about it.

Looking back, I gave up too quickly. Maybe I should have continued to improve my craft and I would have been a star. We will never know.

What I do know is that I stopped before giving myself much of a chance to get better.

Anyway, the song is still on SoundCloud if you want to check it out. I’m still available for bookings, lol.

Listen to Illegal Businesses

Batho ba tlareng

That fear follows us into so many things.

What if I launch the business and it fails? What if I make a song nobody likes? What if I start a YouTube channel and nobody bothers to watch?

“Batho ba tlareng” syndrome.

We spend so much time thinking about what other people might think of us. We imagine them noticing everything, remembering everything, keeping score.

Recently, I came across a post by Sahil Bloom about how much we overestimate the attention other people give us. People are mostly absorbed in their own lives.

Their own worries, plans, relationships. Their own version of “Batho ba tlareng.”

When I say “nobody cares,” that’s what I mean. Most people aren’t spending nearly as much time thinking about our mistakes as we are.

Some people will notice. Some will have something to say. My friends had something to say about my music.

But how long will they spend thinking about it? And how long am I going to let the possibility of their reaction stop me from doing something I want to do?

Being judged is uncomfortable. For something like recording a podcast or sharing a song, I can deal with some discomfort.

I’ve failed at a lot of things in my life, which has given me a bit of a thick skin. But I still have to remind myself of this. Clearly. Darren had to spend the whole day calming me down.

Showing up anyway

Looking back, I wonder how much better I could have got if I had kept making music. Write another song. Record it. Listen to what needs work. Make the next one.

Instead, I’m here years later discussing the performance of one song. Sixty-one plays. We’ve analysed the numbers enough.

I want to give myself more of a chance with the podcast.

If I suck and only five people watch, that’s great. The rest of the world won’t know I suck, lol.

And those five people took time out of their lives to watch. I can show up for them.

Just do the work. Put in the reps. Write the songs. Do the mileage. Record the podcast episodes. Write the code.

Some of it will be bad. You’ll listen back and understand why only five people watched. Fair enough. What can you improve for the next one?

I can spend the whole week wondering whether people think I’m a good podcaster. Or I can prepare and record another episode.

I said to myself that after 1,000 episodes, I’ll be good. Hopefully, eventually, without needing Darren to talk me down for the whole day.

You don’t get good and then start. You start, and you give yourself a chance to get good.

I can’t go back and find out what would have happened if I had kept making music. But I can remember that now, while I’m creating content as Consistent Sai. Record. Listen back. Learn something. Try again.

I know future me is probably proud of me for taking these first steps and learning new skills. Even if current me is shaking in front of a camera.

Go do the thing

What’s the thing you keep postponing because you’re worried about what people will say?

Name it. Then find the smallest honest first step you can take.

Record a few minutes. Apply for the opportunity. Share the thing you’ve been working on.

Give yourself something real to learn from, instead of spending another month imagining how badly it could go.

I’m still learning this myself. I wanted to start a podcast for years, and when I finally did, it took us the whole day to shoot 20 minutes.

But we got the 20 minutes.

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