In order to be a master, you must be a beginner first.
Initially, I believed that reaching my late 20s would be the time to cease proving myself, not to others, but to myself. However, to my surprise, ProVA ignited the tiger within me. I yearned for knowledge, and ProVA did not disappoint. I began as a naïve and narrow-minded individual about freelancing. I ventured into the world of freelancing, driven by a burning desire to learn and adapt to the new path I had chosen—tried and true. It was a journey filled with uncertainties and possibilities, but ProVA stood as my guiding light, teaching me the art of mastering the art of being a master.
Here are some of my encouragements and reminders to myself as I begin to be a Virtual Assistant:
To be able to learn new skills is a privilege. Why? The majority of people tend to think that you are able because you are given the chance to do so. From my point of view, chances are not given to people equally. I remember a story from someone whom I look up to. The story revolves around a millionaire who tried to live like a poor man without resources but a phone, but somehow managed to survive by being a virtual assistant. Then he concluded that a poor man could make millions after living like that for one (1) year. But he overlooked something important — the phone is a resource itself; it’s a medium! Imagine if he does not own it? What will he do to survive? The point here is we are able because we are given the privilege to do such things. We are capable because we have the advantage to proceed and provide ourselves the materials to execute what we planned. Alongside the fact that I have the phone, a PC, and a stable internet connection and the sane mind to learn — I can say that I am privileged.
There is no easy path towards everything. Everything is vague and uncertain when you are a beginner. Personally, I panicked the first time I heard the terminologies with regard to freelancing and think of a way out — yes, right away. I have felt like my mind was about to explode with combined questions and acquired knowledge. But what I do is think lightly and let my feelings flow through. I considered my feelings cause no one else would. The day after the training, I did not make huge progress but started to regulate my emotions. I gave myself a good rest, not to permanently stop but to have the energy to continue. And yes, I managed to make progress the day after. I started finishing the task given to me and continued the rest little by little. Being a virtual assistant trainee is so humbling that it nearly crashes my mind. With that being mentioned, is proof that this is not an easy path, but you can make it bearable and enjoyable when you learn your own ways to do so.
To begin is to be brave. Considering the fact that you tried and are still reading up to this point and trying to encourage yourself to begin — you are brave! Brave enough to look for ways to satisfy your soul with encouragement that will help you start your journey with a good heart. It is not easy to begin with new skills regardless of our age and status. Your mind will be filled with doubts and inner voices telling you to stop, and if not, discouraging you from what you are going to do. I remember starting my first job before going to college when I was 18. From being sheltered and fed enough to stepping out of my comfort zone to make my own money. Drastic shift, isn’t it? Life foisted hardship onto me that I cannot escape from. But that event made me brave and stronger because why? I began — started my life out of the box. Be brave or lose opportunity. I hope you choose the first choice.
Today, just like the younger me, I will stand with dignity. I won’t be afraid, and if I do, I’ll still do it. With the knowledge I gained from ProVA, I’ll gradually grow and develop. I will seize opportunities and overcome discouragement. I will deliver exceptional work to represent the entire ProVA trainee. You read it right; I will do my best to be who I wanted to be – an excellent Virtual Assistant.
Standing at the Doorway
It makes me laugh at how much this journey actually tricked my brain, which felt like it had really happened even before the first on-screen task with a client happened. I have already rehearsed a lot of my imaginary clients conversing with me. I’ve imagined how I’d explain a missed deadline that hasn’t occurred. Some of that mental rehearsal is useful, I think — it’s how I’ve talked myself down from panic more than once. But some of it is just my mind trying to control an outcome it has no control over yet. I’m slowly trying to learn the more correct way of preparing myself and unlearning the stressing way that drains my energy even before anything happens. I should be real about something. I haven’t landed a client yet. Haven’t sent an invoice, hopped on a call with a real employer, or signed anything. What I’ve got is a notebook full of training notes, a head full of half-formed plans, and a decision I made last night to stop circling the doorway and actually walk through it. So don’t expect a victory lap here. This is just an encouragement speech that I’m giving myself before actually starting to look for real clients.
I thought that my nervousness was a sign that I was not ready yet or that I’m not suitable in this industry. Sweaty palms before I’d even opened the freelancing platform— surely meant wait a little longer, learn a little more, prepare a little harder? I don’t think that anymore. Fear before a beginning isn’t proof you’re unready. It’s more a ticket to start. It just means that you can wait for something to start showing rather than thinking already about the plot. Your trembling hands does not matter to them. So when mine shake while I’m writing my profile description, I try to read it differently now — not a stop sign, just confirmation that I’m finally standing in front of something worth being scared of.
I have my own version of self that I tend to think that I should spend half a year watching internet tutorials and revising my resume for the twentieth time, telling myself I just want to be fully ready. In reality? Sometimes this habit is just a procrastination hiding itself behind nicer words, perfecting through preparation. The training gave me the tools. It never promised I’d feel one hundred percent ready before I used them, and I don’t think anyone ever does. Readiness isn’t something that shows up before you act — it’s something you build by acting. That’s a hard thing to accept when every instinct says wait, but I’m trying to start anyway, before this week quietly turns into another month of “getting prepared.”
Then there’s the scrolling. I’ve stalked through several profiles of actual virtual assistants with great standing, five-star ratings, and good testimonials from clients from around the world. It looks easy to think and discourage myself from starting my own. The version of them I’m comparing myself to didn’t exist on their first day either. The only honest comparison I’ve got is between who I was yesterday — too scared to even open the sign-up form — and who I am right now, typing this out to talk myself into hitting submit. That’s the only race that’s actually mine to run.
I used to think starting meant starting well. A polished portfolio, a flawless pitch, an introduction message with not a single awkward sentence in it. I’m letting that go, slowly. Beginners aren’t supposed to be polished — that’s kind of the whole point of being one. My first proposal is probably going to sound a little stiff. I know that my first attempt at coming to someone’s inbox will probably come with mistakes. And that’s fine because right now my goal is not to be excellent; it is just to show up – send that email, submit that resume even when I feel that it isn’t perfect. I keep thinking back to that story about the millionaire and his phone, because it says something about what’s already in my hands. I don’t need a home office or a second monitor or a certificate from every course out there before I’m allowed to call myself capable. I’ve got a working device, an internet connection, a mind that’s willing to learn, and the training ProVA already gave me. The tools were never really the missing piece. Permission was. And I’m giving that to myself now, today, before another week slips by disguised as preparation.
I don’t expect the doubt to disappear before I begin, either. I used to wait for a day when I’d feel totally certain — no what-ifs, no small voice asking if I was making a mistake. And I’m aware that it won’t come, not just for me but for everyone. So I decided to let the doubt lie behind but never in front of me. It can tag along if it wants. It just doesn’t get to hold the keys.
There are times that I kept imagining myself signing my very first contract, thinking of it as the way to end my struggle and as proof that I finally made it. New things to learn, a new kind of nervous, a fresh list of mistakes waiting to happen. And that’s okay. I’m not trying to arrive somewhere and stop moving. I’m trying to get comfortable with beginning, over and over, until it stops being the scariest part.
One thing I didn’t expect from ProVA was how much less lonely this would feel. Surrounded by other trainees who are just as unsure, just as hopeful, just as stubborn about making this work — I’ve realized beginning doesn’t have to be something you do by yourself. And when the doubt gets loud, I remind myself of this: nobody skipped the beginner stage. The virtual assistants with the glowing testimonials and the long-term clients, the ones I keep comparing myself to — they once sat exactly where I’m sitting. Unsure, untested, holding a laptop and a bit of hope. They didn’t arrive at their skill. They walked into it, one uncertain day at a time. If they survived their own beginning, mine doesn’t have to be the exception. It just has to be the start.
So here’s where I actually am: not a Virtual Assistant with a track record, just someone who’s decided to become one. I haven’t proven anything to a client yet, but I’ve proven something to myself by getting this far — finishing the training, sitting with the doubt instead of running from it, writing this down as a promise instead of a wish. I’m not writing this after the fact, dressed up in the confidence of someone who already made it. I’m writing it from the doorway, one hand still on the frame, stepping through anyway.
If you’re reading this standing at your own doorway — maybe toward this same career, maybe toward something else entirely — take it as permission, not pressure. You don’t need to feel ready. You don’t need the perfect plan. You just need the next step, whatever it is, and then the one after that. That’s really all beginning has ever asked of anyone.
Right now everything seems to be thrilling and exciting that makes me move and make progress. But I know that excitement will fade in an instant. There will be Mondays that I won’t be eager to move an inch to turn on my PC, when encouraging myself will be taxing instead of exciting.
I’m well aware that rejection will always be on the side, but I’d rather brace for it now than let it blindside me later and talk me into quitting. A client choosing someone else isn’t a verdict on whether I’m capable — it’s just a decision shaped by their own needs, timing, and budget, most of which has nothing to do with me at all. I’m choosing, ahead of time, to treat rejection as one data point among many, not the final word on what I’m worth. I am reminded ahead of time to treat that rejection as a mismatch, but not what I am capable of.
There is this little habit of mine that I’m embarrassed to share, but I will share it anyway. I have started taking screenshots of job postings I haven’t applied yet. It serves as a reminder to me that those jobs and people are all real. That there is always room for someone like me in this industry. I don’t know if it is considered strategy or self-comfort. Maybe it’s both. Maybe that’s allowed too.
To be able to learn new skills is a privilege. There is no easy path towards everything. To begin is to be brave. Those three lines are the ones I’m holding onto as I close this notebook, open my laptop, and take my own first step — not because I’m certain of what’s next, but because I’ve decided uncertainty isn’t a good enough reason to keep standing still.
Author
Rica Mae Ilagan
General Virtual Assistant