The Beginner’s Bliss: Why Experts Secretly Miss Being Clueless

The expert in anything was once a beginner, but the beginner probably had more fun.

Let’s face it. Experts might get the accolades, the corner offices, and the blue check marks on social media — but beginners? They get the belly laughs, the ridiculous mistakes, and the kind of memories you file under “will only confess at high school reunions.”

Remember your first attempt at cooking? You followed a YouTube video with all the confidence of Gordon Ramsay — and ended up with a charcoal tribute to what used to be pasta. Or your first yoga class where you bent yourself into something that resembled a crumpled IKEA instruction manual and were still told to “breathe into the pose.”

Experts don't get that kind of adrenaline rush anymore. They’re too busy being good at things.

When you're a beginner, expectations are blissfully low. If you join a pottery class and produce something that looks like a melted coconut, people nod sympathetically and say, “It’s your first class!” Fast-forward to expert level, and suddenly everyone expects a Greek amphora. There’s no space for mistakes — just technique, precision, and the looming threat of being asked to teach a Masterclass.

Beginners, on the other hand, live in a judgment-free carnival. You can attempt salsa and look like a malfunctioning sprinkler system. You can try painting and end up with a canvas that confuses even abstract art lovers. And guess what? It’s still considered “brave” and “experimental.”

Experts don’t get participation trophies. Beginners do — and then Instagram them proudly.

Let’s talk about fashion. A beginner makeup artist might draw eyebrows like cartoon villains, use six different shades of foundation, and still step out saying, “I watched a tutorial!” An expert, however, is expected to contour with the precision of a neurosurgeon and blend like a cloud whisperer.

And don’t even get me started on learning to drive. Beginners stall, honk unnecessarily, and park like they’re playing Tetris on level 10. But there’s a kind of joy — and chaos — in that. Experts just parallel park without drama. Where’s the fun in that?

The truth is, beginners operate with wide-eyed wonder. Everything is new, everything is magical, and everything is an opportunity to laugh — especially at yourself. Experts? They’re too busy optimizing.

So the next time you hesitate to try something new because you “don’t know how,” remember: not knowing is half the fun. It’s your golden license to fail spectacularly and still get a high five.

Because while the expert might sign autographs, the beginner gets stories. And let’s be honest — stories about your first Zumba class, your DIY haircut, or your attempt to learn the ukulele at 2 a.m. are way more entertaining than how you finally perfected a spreadsheet.

Go on. Be terrible at something today. It might just be the most fun you’ve had in ages