How to Support Someone Doing Something for the First Time

Ever noticed how your "just another Tuesday" might be someone else's "what on earth is that buzzing sound and should I be worried"? In today’s top tip, we’re diving into why staying curious – especially in first-time situations – is one of the smartest things you can prioritise.

We'll look at how remembering your own awkward first times can make you a more empathetic, supportive human. And yes, there's a hornet involved. Stick around – it might just make someone's first-time experience a little less terrifying (and a lot more Yorkshire Show-worthy).

When you’re faced with something new, prioritising your ability to stay curious – rather than fearful – is key.
It helps you stay open to learning, to respond with empathy rather than frustration, and to support others who are where you once were.

If you don’t, you risk becoming dismissive, impatient – or worse, unhelpful when people need you most.

Why First Times Matter

Now then – speaking of being open to new things – recently Pulp were back at the top of the music charts with their first album since 1998.
Yes, that Pulp. Jarvis and the gang. It’s been 27 years since their last studio album, which feels like both five minutes and a lifetime ago.

I’ve only seen them live once, but what a moment – their iconic Glastonbury headline set in 1995. They were absolutely on fire.

The obvious highlights were Common People and Disco 2000 (both of which still slap, as the kids may or may not say), but another gem in their back catalogue is Do You Remember the First Time?

Now, being the seedy so-and-so’s they were – always a bit more gutter than garden party – Pulp were of course singing about first-time sexual shenanigans. But it got me thinking about first times for other things too – the stuff we don’t talk about quite so much.

The awkward, confusing, unpredictable moments when you do or see something for the very first time and have no idea what to do with it.

The Hornet Moment

I remember the first time I saw a hornet. It was at the Great Yorkshire Show, which – if you’ve never been – is basically Glastonbury for farmers.

I was maybe nine or ten, pottering about near a stall that had some kind of log display. There, boring its way into the wood like it had absolutely paid for the right, was a massive, terrifying creature.

It was about 20 times the size of a wasp. It didn’t buzz like a wasp either – it growled. Or at least that’s how it felt to ten-year-old me.

I didn’t know what it was. I thought maybe I’d discovered something new. Like David Attenborough but in Crimple Valley.
 

So I told someone – an adult – just in case it was a threat to national security and needed to be neutralised by the RAF.

Of course, it was a hornet. A perfectly ordinary hornet. Common enough in that part of the world in the summer.

But to me, it was unknowable. And potentially deadly. That was the first time I’d seen one. And because I had no experience or context, I had no idea what to do with it.

That’s the funny thing about first times – they don’t come with instructions. And they can make you feel helpless, clueless, or just plain daft.

From Hornets to Boardrooms

Whether it’s your first day at work, first time presenting to a boardroom, first time using a spreadsheet that looks like it needs its own instruction manual – you’re out of your depth.

And it’s easy to feel like the only one who’s ever been there. Which, of course, you’re not.

Because for someone else, that spreadsheet is second nature.
 

That boardroom pitch? Wednesday morning.
 

That terrifying hornet? Just a hornet.

The gap isn’t in intelligence or capability – it’s just experience.

The Danger of Forgetting

But here’s the catch. We forget. The more we do something, the harder it is to remember what it was like to not know how.

We assume others “should” get it, or “must” know by now, or even worse – we think we never struggled with that.
 

Spoiler: we did. We just don’t like to admit it.

Helping someone who’s seeing something for the first time – whether it’s a hornet or a complicated system or their first difficult meeting – isn’t about showing off your experience.
 

It’s about remembering your first time and offering the thing you probably wanted back then: reassurance, clarity, kindness, and maybe even a laugh.

Helping Others Through Their Firsts

Think about the people around you this week. Someone is doing something for the first time.

- Maybe they’re not saying it out loud.
- Maybe they feel daft for not knowing.
- Maybe they’re worried you’ll think they’re not up to the job.

If you’ve been there, say so. Even better – show them how you got through it.

- Tell them about your version of the hornet.
- Tell them you once didn’t know what Ctrl+Z did.
 

And when they get it, celebrate like it’s the Great Yorkshire Show and they’ve just won Best in Breed.

The Power of First Times

There’s something else here, too. We often talk about doing things for the last time without realising it – the last time you carry your child upstairs, or the last time you do a particular job before moving on.

But it’s just as powerful to be aware of first times. Especially when you’re in the middle of them.

That nervous excitement? That mild panic? That sense of “am I really doing this?” – they’re signs that something new is happening. Pay attention.

These moments are rare, and they pass quickly.
What feels like chaos now might be second nature in a few months. So make a note. Write it down. Be curious.

And if someone else is there with you, talk about it. You’ll both remember it better.

The Takeaway

Here’s the takeaway, then: Be the kind of person who not only remembers their first time, but uses it to help others through theirs. Your everyday might be someone else's hornet moment.

Whether it’s a system, a skill, or a sticky situation, don’t assume experience is shared. Instead, offer support, clarity and patience – and maybe, just maybe, a bit of Jarvis Cocker-style swagger while you're at it.

If you liked this hit subscribe – and tell me in the comments: what was your version of the hornet?