Okay, so Cher once said, “Until you’re ready to look foolish, you’ll never have the possibility of being great.” And honestly? That’s one of those quotes that just crawls under your skin, hangs out for a while, and then suddenly smacks you upside the head when you least expect it.
I mean, who hasn’t chickened out of doing something because we were terrified of looking like an idiot? Me, many times. Karaoke nights, new dance classes, even daring to post my first piece of writing online—each one was a battle between “this could be fun” and “oh no, what if people laugh at me?” Spoiler alert: sometimes they did laugh. And yet, that’s where the magic happens.
The Fear of Foolishness
The thing about looking foolish is that it’s wired deep into us, like a bad ringtone from the early 2000s we can’t uninstall. Nobody wakes up thinking, “Today, I hope I embarrass myself in front of strangers!” But here’s the rub—avoiding foolishness usually means avoiding growth. It’s like living life with the training wheels still on your bike when deep down you know you’re ready to coast down the street with no hands, hair blowing in the wind, yelling something ridiculous like “I’m king of the cul-de-sac!”
Looking foolish is the down payment for greatness. You can’t skip it.
Cher Knows Stuff
Let’s be real: Cher is not exactly someone you’d associate with playing it safe. This is a woman who wore a full-on feathered headdress and sequins on TV when everyone else was still ironing their collars. She’s reinvented herself more times than I’ve reorganized my desk (and trust me, my desk has moods). If she says you’ve got to risk looking foolish, I’m inclined to listen.
My Foolish Resume
Okay, confession time. My personal foolish résumé is long. Here are some highlights:
- First Zumba class I taught: forgot half the choreography and ended up improvising a move I now call “panicked grapevine.” The students laughed, but you know what? They came back.
- Trying to speak French in Paris once: I asked for “pain de chocolat” (bread of chocolate) instead of “pain au chocolat.” The baker gave me the side-eye of doom. But he also gave me the pastry. Worth it.
- Publishing my first book: I hit “publish” and immediately thought, “Oh no. Everyone’s going to think I’m full of myself.” Instead, people actually bought it. Some even liked it!
See? Foolishness didn’t kill me. In fact, every time I stumbled, it shoved me closer to being better.
Famous Fools Who Became Legends
Here’s the fun part: the greats didn’t start out looking polished. They looked, well… kinda foolish.
- She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named got rejected by twelve publishers before Harry Potter found a home. Can you imagine pitching a book about a boy wizard living under the stairs, and everyone’s like “nah, pass”? Bet that felt foolish. But without those nos, we wouldn’t have Hogwarts.
- Lady Gaga used to perform in dingy New York clubs wearing bizarre, handmade outfits that made people roll their eyes. People thought she was weird. She leaned into it. Now she’s got Grammys, Oscars, and a meat dress in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
- Steve Jobs got laughed at when he insisted on making computers “beautiful.” People said, “It’s a machine, Steve, not a piece of art.” Guess who’s holding iPhones right now? Yeah.
- Oprah was told she was “unfit for television.” Imagine if she had listened. We’d all be Oprah-less, and the world would be a little dimmer without her couch-jumping guests and book club picks.
- Albert Einstein—get this—was considered slow as a child and didn’t speak fluently until around age four. Teachers thought he was dull. Foolish? Maybe. Great? Definitely.
What ties them all together is that willingness to look silly, to be dismissed, to be underestimated. And instead of hiding from it, they carried on, head held high, even if their shoes were untied.
Why We Need Foolishness
Greatness doesn’t spring fully formed from our heads like Athena from Zeus’s forehead. (Imagine the headache.) It’s messy, clumsy, awkward. Looking foolish means you’re trying something new, stepping off the well-worn path, and planting your flag in unknown territory.
Think about it: babies look foolish trying to walk. Teens look foolish figuring out their style. Artists look foolish showing off their early sketches. But without those stumbles, nobody ever becomes graceful, stylish, or skilled.
How to Lean Into It
So, how do we actually do this whole “embrace foolishness” thing without curling up into a ball? A few tricks I’ve learned:
- Laugh at yourself first. If you trip in public, make it part of the show. (Bonus points if you bow.)
- Collect your bloopers. Keep a mental list of times you looked silly. Later, they become great stories—sometimes even icebreakers.
- Remember nobody’s watching as closely as you think. Seriously. Most people are too busy worrying about their own foolishness.
- Channel your inner Cher. If she can wear a naked illusion gown on the red carpet in 1988, you can probably handle fumbling a Zoom presentation.
The Payoff
Here’s the good part: once you get comfortable with looking foolish, you stop caring quite so much about what other people think. And that’s where real creativity starts kicking in. Suddenly, you’re singing louder, writing bolder, dancing wilder, loving harder. You’re not tiptoeing through life—you’re strutting.
Cher nailed it: foolishness is the toll booth you pass through on your way to greatness. And the best part? The toll’s usually just your ego, and honestly, that thing can afford to be downsized.
So, next time you’re about to shrink back because you think you’ll look ridiculous—remember Cher. Lean into the foolishness. Who knows? Greatness might be right around the corner, feathered headdress and all.
