A blank page isn’t empty. It’s just waiting for you to ruin it a little so you can start.

A page feels intimidating because you are treating it as something that can be spoiled. In practice the first marks are not the work, they are the way in, and they exist to be painted over, crossed out or thrown away. Nothing is lost by making it imperfect, since perfect was never available. Starting is mostly a decision to lower the stakes of the first line.

Put something deliberately rough down before you try anything real, a scribble, a bad opening sentence. Work from there rather than from a clean sheet. Keep a stack of already-ruined pages so the fear has nowhere to sit.