The real reason I struggle to be creative
And how I’m fixing it this year
As my fingers hesitantly hover over the keyboard, the usual thrill of diving into a new project has vanished, replaced by a sigh and a roll of the eyes. Seven years. Seven years of pouring my heart into every creative crack I could find, and for what? Likes, clicks, and hollow metrics?
I’ve noticed it… we all have.
For most of us, being creative isn’t financially viable.
As I walk (or perhaps more aptly, whimper) into 2024, I enter my **seventh** year as a self-proclaimed creative.
I’ve poured thousands of hours into every conceivable creative venture: from blog posts and podcasts to YouTube videos and even stand-up comedy!
There’s nothing I love more than coming up with ideas and being creative but, no matter the medium, one thing stays consistent. Stats.
Every platform has its way of quantifying your quality, be it views, likes or perceived loudness of claps. Despite amassing something of a small following over the years, none of these metrics have actually made me better or more valued as a creative.
Being creative comes with challenges
Even in an idealistic world, it takes some guile to be creative. Yet, in reality, one of my biggest barriers has been, quite trivially, finding the time to be creative.
After a long day of studying, it’s hard to sit down and push myself to be creative when the only thing on my mind is sleep. Even still, the pressure to perform and turn this hobby into a career makes the time I do have even less enjoyable.
Over the last year, I really fell out of love with the process.
I felt compelled to make ‘career’ decisions:
How can I make my work appeal to more people?
Since the algorithm values consistency, what deadlines should I work to?
What innovative new idea is really going to make me blow up this time?
This time…?
The truth is, it’s hard to stay immersed once outside voices enter your process. When real-world concerns become creative demons.
I got sucked into a mode of manufacturing like I was making this product to be consumed by the masses, instead of finding a creative way to express my vision.
It was no longer about me, but fueling the machine that feeds me.
Not to mention the air of perfectionism that so clearly conflicts with the idea of creative risks…
I got to a place where I needed something to perform before I even started writing, so I was never ‘done’ with a project and just put things out to meet a self-enforced deadline. Then, I started setting expectations for myself that very quickly became toxic and unrealistic.
It’s been months since I created something, yet I feel burdened by my absence. As if I have to deliver something exceptional to justify the amount of time it’s taken.
I started to see things as projects or ‘bodies of work’ as opposed to, well, just ‘things’. Things that I had made. Things I made for me…
Making things for me
This year, we’re doing things a bit differently around here. I’ve learned from my shortcomings.
The problem is I started to reframe my idea of success to fit one that conflicted with my actual goals. Sure I wanted to be a better writer, but that’s not exactly the same as generating thousands of reads every post.
Expression is not retention and it sure as hell isn’t attention. How common is it for the film of the year to also be the box office champion? How much overlap is there between Grammy nominations and cultural impact?
The two are by no means exclusive, nor do they go directly hand in hand. The idea is to first define what I really want from my platform, before taking steps to achieve my goals… My goals. Not everything needs to be a side hustle.
I’m refining my process to prioritise experimenting. No one actually cares about my work, so there’s no harm in taking creative “risks” and pushing myself to grow and develop at my own pace. I’m a proud hobbyist and won’t let arbitary financial goals interfere with my creativity!
I could turnaround and decide never to write again, but at least I know that would be my creative decision and not one fuelled by validation or financial compensation… Or a lack thereof.
The real lesson here is one of boundaries. I started on this journey because it was fun and I was curious, not because I wanted a career or to pull certain numbers.
Being more pragmatic about my time and giving myself space to be creative is the most practical way I can pursue my passion without placing undue pressure on myself to meet some ‘standard’.
Instead of focusing on the numbers, this year I’m focusing on me and my goals… My vision and my growth.
