It takes a lot to create out loud.
For the past two years, I’ve been in a cycle of producing books while also —releasing project after another, juggling life, art, and business. And while I’m incredibly grateful for what’s unfolded, I’ve also been sitting with the deeper truth: it really takes a lot out of you to create and share your life and work out loud. To put your heart into what you do and let it live outside of you.
After so much output, and release of my newest project, Everyday Creativity, I’ve needed a creative and mental reset—and I welcomed it with open arms.
But here’s what I’ve been learning in the quiet: rest doesn’t mean disconnecting from creativity entirely. In fact, even when I’m not actively producing or posting, I’m still collecting. I’ve been gathering memories, taking photos, writing things down, storing away bits of beauty and inspiration—little things I know will bloom later. This season has been less about what I can show and more about what I can hold.






I’ve noticed when you’re constantly pouring out, at some point, you have to stop and ask: am I still connected to what I’m creating? Is this filling me up—or just draining what’s left?
Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about the draining side. I’ve poured out past the ends of myself. Ran ragged. I absolutely no longer want to live that way. It was detrimental to not only my physical health (as someone who lives with an auto-immune disorder) but also my mental health. And it was heavy on my relationships, my personality and everything around me.
And while I still regularly engage in the creating and pouring myself into the things that I know I was made to do (create, make, paint, write, etc) releasing work into the world for others to see, critique, consume, and enjoy takes confidence and awareness of your identity and much effort to stay balanced (if you even can). And that my friend can be HARD.
Whether I’ve liked it or not, I’ve learned what it costs, what it gives back, and how it shapes me (for good or bad). There’s many things I’ve had to bump my head learning and also new lessons I’ve been dwelling on recently as I enter a time of some resetting and reimagining for what’s ahead.
And so today I share some of those lessons, in case they would be of encouragement or help to anyone finding themself in a similar place.
Six Lessons Learned from Creating in Public
1. The person I am when I finish the work is rarely the same person I was when I started it.
Each release brings growth—and the more honest and vulnerable the work, the more it shapes me. That change is ultimately good, but can be brutal to walk through. I remember being in tears as I wrote chapters of Sacred Creativity, because there were things I had never really sat and thought about that I was sharing. I’ve had times when I looked back at something I painted or made, and was proud that I was no longer that person that made that thing. When you stand at the part of completing anything, you might look back and realize you might have done things differently. I think for me, that’s good. That's a sign of growth.
2. There’s power in letting your work live with who you were then.
Piggy backing off of the last one, I think it’s good for us to realize we are not to be perfected in every state of life. That’s what makes us human. It’s good we’d do things different, it’s good we’ve learned something in the process. There’s something beautiful in honoring the version of you who made the thing, who walked through it, who made it to the other side. That version of you is part of your story.
3. The tension between vulnerability and celebration is real.
At the end of every launch, every release, every time I send over files for a project - I am left with relief and tension.
It’s a feat to get something done. I say this with a lot of care. I have mentored and coached a number of women, who I cheer from the sidelines to do what some consider “small” things, to finish tasks that they have been sitting on for years. It can take a lot of mental breakthrough and grit to get to the finish line.
And yet, when it’s time to celebrate, it’s common to feel unsure or flooded with doubts. Is it good enough? Is it finished? I’m tired and do not want to acknowledge what I’ve just done.
Sometimes I am waiting for the applause, for the validation - but I’ve found I must push myself to affirm what I know is true before anyone else. I am known to pull back and isolate, but have learned to reach out to friends and loved ones to mark the milestone. To ask for prayer, love and support as I approach the end. It’s always better processing those emotions in community.
It can be a wrestle at times, but that push and pull is part of releasing work into the world. When we are ready for it and recognize it, we can prepare well.
4. When you pour too much, you MUST fill the tank back up.
After running hard, we can’t keep going without being poured back into. Even when this makes so much sense, I can still get hard on myself about my emotions. I cannot expect myself to feel full of energy and excitement when I am on E. I need to go back to my safe spaces, my faith, my family, my village to get myself the rest and care that I need before I get back into my work. Sometimes it even looks like finding the world’s best chocolate chip cookie recipe and slowing down to make them.
Creativity—and life—needs that balance to sustain itself.
5. Sometimes we hold onto “good” things that are no longer good for us.
I can get caught in a cycle, where I’m just so used to producing and putting out work into the world that I don’t look up to evaluate or notice when things have run their course.
Not all good things, are good for you forever.
I’ve learned that by saying goodbye to my studio, taking a break from my shop, pausing on client projects, etc. Sometimes you have to let things breathe (or go), to figure out what is next and make room for the new.
And its okay if something that was good for you a month ago, is no longer the answer now. It’s hard to untangle from it at first, but releasing it can open the door to what’s good for you now.
6. Showing up imperfectly still matters.
If you knew how much adversity I have faced to publish this Substack, you’d laugh. I overthought it, I kept putting it off, I doubted myself, my words, you name it. I didn’t put out the posts I wanted to last month, and I kicked myself for too long about it.
But I’m getting up again, and I have time and time again learned that showing up imperfect is okay.
You won’t always have the perfect ideas or the polished plan. But you can still use your honest voice. That’s what people connect with. I’m walking through firsthand what it means to begin again, to start something new. And also question everything and I’ve gotta trust the process of being imperfect and showing up anyway.
It’s vulnerable, I’m struggling with consistency, but I’m reminding myself, that I am still showing up and that counts for something.
One final reminder...
Maybe you’re in a place of release, or rest, or something in-between. I hope one of these lessons helps you feel less alone.
There’s power in pouring out, and there’s power in being poured into. Don’t stay in one place too long. But when you’re in it, let it teach you. Let it shape you. Let it bring you back to the good work you were created to do.
What lessons have you learned with creating out loud or sharing your work?







Wow, I am so thankful you published this post. I’ll be coming back to it because there’s so much wisdom here. 💛
Number two feels really significant to me right now, thank you for sharing this. Letting past creative decisions still be celebrated and honored even as we grow and change. I didn’t have words for that until now! 🙏🏼