How To Turn A Meandering Path Into Mastery (Even Without A Big Dream)

If someone told the shy, insecure, self-doubt-ridden 10-year-old me that I’d not only be having a book launch — but doing it in the USA? I would’ve written them off as batshit crazy.

As I reflect on my first-ever book launch for My Journey Beyond the Summit this past summer solstice, one truth hit me hard:

Not all success stories start with a dream. Mine sure didn’t.

The Shy Kid Who Started Writing in Secret

Ironically, it was my shyness and insecurity that first led me to write. I could barely speak to my parents about the things I struggled with. So I’d sit in my room and write in what I called my “Life Book.” Being born deaf in my left ear not only taught me to focus on what I do have instead of don’t — it led me to create a succinct way to describe deep found gratitude for experiences in life: An Andrew Moment. These were moments that I felt overcome with joy to still be able to hear — and to be me.

One such time I remember, was hitting flow state as a 22-year-old, writing about life on a slow day at work and the words seemed to just move through me with such ease. My mom kept that piece of paper — you can read it below.

The Picture that Sparked more than a Story for an A

I never thought I was a writer when I was at school. I probably sat in the upper middle range of marks but never in the top. I only got one A in creative writing. But that story I wrote and set in Cape Town— based on the image of a whale’s tail out of the water — would strangely foreshadow my life as a decade later I’d move to Cape Town. And more than that?

My life has become one helluva Whale of a tale.

While I may never have found validation with high external marks for my writing, this one piece was an early milestone in what flow state devoid of overthinking could create. Just writing from the spark that picture lit in my soul would create a lifelong ember.

The London Emails That Sparked It All

When I moved to London in 2003, there was no WhatsApp or cheap video calls. I’ve always been blessed to have family invested in me and constantly wanting to know what’s going on in my life — no matter how far away I am. To stay connected, I started sending weekly emails home — updates about life in London, job hunting, Cadbury’s chocolate aisles.

My family would reply: “You should be a writer.”

I thought — they’re family, they have to say that.

While I had no previous desires to write professionally or become an author, these seeds were instrumental to get me to start writing short stories—even if just for my eyes.

Small Sparks, Big Steps

Then came a string of girlfriends I felt safe enough to share my short stories with and they loved them.

In 2008, Claire gave me a title idea — The Lighthouse and the Full Moon — and I wrote my first full book, completing it in a year, where the bulk of the writing was completed in the last 3 months while unemployed. That experience taught me more than writing: it taught me persistence, patience, and the reality of the writing process: some days you struggle to write one sentence... and others, the words pour through you.

Then Facebook arrived. Friends started noticing my posts and said, “You should start a blog.”

In 2016, thanks to my friends Martelize and Lianne, I launched Renaissance Guy — and began interviewing, storytelling, and offering my writing to groups like Future Females.

I had no identity as a writer, and so I was able to explore whatever I felt needed to come through me. I may have taken the leap to put myself out there — but I still hadn’t overcome the crippling self-doubt to maintain a level of consistency to build a solid following. It was like I refused to fully get wet but wanted to swim.

A Life-Changing Idea

Then came another nudge. Andre, a prolific speaker, read my blog entitled Pray for Something Bad and messaged me: “You should write a book.”

Eight months later in 2017, after being laid off, a severance package and savings gave me the financial space and mental capacity to make a vital decision and choose to move forward out of love and not fear. All that exploration on what I love culminated on an 8th-last drive to work, as I ruminated on what work I’d be doing, ‘I could write a book’ I thought, which begged the question:

“...but write about what?”

The answer followed as though someone was waiting for that exact question.

Climb Table Mountain every day for a year.

That idea would become my hero’s journey — and later, my first memoir.

More than that, it became the litmus test to see how far I was prepared to go to finally let go of self-doubt and see how my ideas stacked up in public. Yes, my thinking may have tweaked since I was 20 but now I had something that nobody had ever done before to inform why the way I felt and thought mattered. 

The funniest thing I heard recently is:

Opinions are like arseholes. Everybody's got one.

Now I know someone’s opinion of my writing tells me more about them than it does my writing.

Perseverance Through the Unknown

Just because you do one incredible thing doesn’t mean you automatically shed burdens like self-doubt. I struggled to get going with my book because, “Why would anyone care about what I did?”

2019: I finished the manuscript. January 2020: We moved to New York, hoping to immerse in the literary world. Six weeks later — COVID shut everything down. It felt hopeless.

Then a lifeline. In 2021, I finally secured a work visa and incredibly landed my first paid writing job — copywriting. For two years, I honed my craft writing for podcasts and learning from every episode and the mountain as my mentor to say, “keep going.”

These experiences taught me that while I had conquered A mountain, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t have any mountains in my future to climb (specifically self-doubt) — but my confidence in my ability to learn, master, and overcome any mountain was rooted in results. I have now flipped the script and I use self-doubt as a tool to sharpen what I write and put out there. Instead of thinking ‘I have all the answers', self-doubt now keeps me humbled with ‘you don’t have all the answers — so how do you communicate with humility but effectively to help others on their path?’

The Right Publisher, At Last

New York publishers, literary agents, all ghosted me.

Deflated and depressed, we headed back to Cape Town. And there — through a project with One Heart — I was blessed with a one in a 7 billion interaction. I had resigned myself to self-publishing and One Heart’s partner with the government was a small textbook publisher, Imprint, so I asked them about printers to start getting quotes on the cost of printing. “Can I read it?” Giving it no thought I gladly asked for Zainab’s email and sent it on. 

To my shock, four days later she offered to sponsor everything up until printing.

That single act lifted years of weight from my shoulders.

My publishing journey taught me that just because I wasn't getting what I wanted — didn’t mean I wasn't getting what I needed. For example, my number one desire was to ensure that anyone who hasn’t climbed Table Mountain, would get a real sense from my writing of what it was like. Because of Imprint, my editor was Matthew — one of three humans on earth who loved the route up the mountain I took. That meant it was like having my book edited in 5D, and hearing him say, “when I read your book it’s like I’m on the mountain again” was the greatest compliment I could receive.

The Launch That Almost Didn’t Happen

My first two printed books arrived in Asheville in October 2024 — 11 days after Hurricane Helene devastated the region.

I surprised my dear friend Winslow with a copy, who’d always wanted to read it. Then she surprised me — connecting me to Gina at The Laurel of Asheville, who ran a feature article... and offered me a paid column in 2025. For the first time in my life I held two opposing emotions at the same time: 

• Immense joy at the physical manifestation of my years of hard work.

• The pain and sadness at life lost, livelihoods ruined, communities ravaged and destroyed.

Winter was fast approaching and it felt tone deaf to host an event when the place I would be in probably was weeks away from closing. But the value of patience and letting go of my ego's need to have things happen “now” meant my launch would happen organically, and beautifully. 

Marcia would read my articles in The Laurel of Asheville, she’d already chatted with me in Whole Foods and she instantly bought my book, read it, and then promptly asked a friend with a brewery if I’d host a book launch / signing.

From 14 to 45... From the quiet suburb of Johannesburg to a quiet town Hendersonville.

What this experience solidified for me was yet again not to get fixated on when something happens — but rather enjoy the beauty in how it does. 

Trust me. I have far greater appreciation and connection to the how's than the when's of what I just outlined. 

Why This Story Matters

Even if I’d dreamed of being an author at 10 — this journey would’ve required the same things: Patience. Persistence. Perseverance.

Without those, I would’ve quit.

My book’s path mirrors my life. And what you can take away from this path - is that I constantly said “yes” to opportunities more than I said no; even when others thought I was batshit crazy.

At 22, I once wrote:

“Acknowledgement is for weak people. True doers do it for self-fulfillment.”

Now, I know better: there are no weak people — just people at various stages of their journey (and who knows what untold and untreated trauma?). And we all deserve to be acknowledged, even as we meander to find the meaning of true fulfillment: within ourselves.

But I forgot those words — self-fulfillment — until I climbed that mountain for a year and lived them.

Knowing what to do isn’t the same as doing it. And letting go of when success happens — that’s what allows fulfillment along the journey.. Not bestseller lists. Not external fame.

One piece of advice that’s stayed with me since I first heard it in 1997 — from the Sunscreen song — has always been a comfort:

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life.

The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives.

Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.

At 10, I certainly didn’t.

At 22, I was discovering myself.

Even at 45, I’m still uncovering new dreams.

And that’s the point: 

👉 The world needs more heart-centered voices. 

👉 Stories take years to ripen. 

👉 The shy kid inside us all deserves to discover what we’re capable of — even when we can’t yet see it.

So pay attention to those closest to you.

Sometimes they see your spark before you do.