What Only Your Best Friend Will Tell You About Unlocking Your Creativity

I used to think something was wrong with me.

I’d sit at my desk, surrounded by the prettiest scraps, the softest brushes, the juiciest ink colors, and I’d just stare. Nothing would come. And when it did, it felt forced. Like I was trying to be an artist, instead of just being one.

And god, that ache. That longing to create something true. That ache to see a piece of myself reflected back to me in the work. I wanted it so badly it hurt. But the more I wanted it, the more frozen I felt.

The blank page became a mirror for all the ways I thought I wasn’t enough.

So I’d clean the studio. Scroll Instagram. Make a to-do list. Light a candle. Blow out the candle. Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.

Because deep down, I was scared.

Scared to make something bad. Scared it wouldn’t live up to the version I’d created in my head. Scared I’d pour my whole heart into something and still be invisible. Scared I wasn’t really an artist at all, just someone who knew how to make pretty things.

But then, something shifted. Not with a bang. Not with some big breakthrough. It happened on a rainy Tuesday afternoon.

I was tired. I felt sad. So I ripped a piece of paper in half and glued it down upside down. I scribbled in the margins. I didn’t try to be clever, I just kept adding things I liked. It was a messy page full of collage, quotes, little notes I wanted to remember and sketches I’d done and ripped up. I didn’t try to be good.

And that page? It wasn’t beautiful. But it was true.

And something about that changed everything.

Since then, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to “unlock” creativity.

We’re fed this idea that creativity is a door we just need the right key to open. The perfect course. The right supplies. The right mood.

But what if creativity doesn’t need unlocking?

What if it’s already here, under the pile of expectations and pressure and self-judgment?

What if it’s not about trying harder, but softening instead?

Here’s what I know now:

Creativity isn’t a performance. It’s a relationship. One that needs space. One that needs trust. One that needs you to stop trying so hard to impress and just be with it.

It’s not flashy. It’s quiet.

It hides when you’re mean to yourself.It blooms when you give it room to breathe.

I’ve learned to stop asking, “Is this good enough?” and instead ask, “Is this true?”

Because the best art I’ve made, the stuff that makes people cry, or smile, or message me saying “I feel seen”, that work didn’t come from talent or planning. It came from the days I let myself be messy. Uncertain. Honest.

It came from playing.

Play has become my portal.

Not hustle. Not planning. Not five-year goals.

Just... play. Like I did as a kid, when I made potions out of flower petals and mud. When I filled notebooks with made-up stories and covered pages in stickers. That kind of play. Sacred. Silly. Free.

I’ve made a practice of it now.

Ten minutes with a glue stick. Weird color combinations. Collage scraps. A journal only I get to see. And lots and lots of stickers!

And when I really let go, my creativity shows up like an old friend. Not always with fireworks. Sometimes just a whisper. But it’s there. And that’s enough.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this:

If you’re feeling stuck, or dry, or like your inner artist has packed up and left town. I promise, she hasn’t. She’s still there, waiting patiently.

You’re not broken. You’re just carrying too much.

So give yourself permission to drop the weight. Rip the page. Glue something upside down. Write the words that feel too raw to share.

You don’t need to make something perfect. You just need to make something real.

That’s where the magic is. That’s where you are.

This wasn’t easy to write. Not because I don’t believe it, but because it’s still hard to admit how afraid I used to be (and sometimes still am). But I’m learning. And if you’re here, maybe you are too.

So light the candle. Or don’t. Put on the playlist. Or sit in silence. But whatever you do make something today.

Messy. Honest. Yours.

I’m right here, rooting for you.

P.S. Got a page you love (or hate but made anyway)? Tag me or email me. I want to see it. Your messy brilliance inspires me more than you know.

If you enjoyed this, come hang out with me over on Substack! I share even more behind-the-scenes thoughts, creative tips, and heart-led stories. You can find me at Artsy Bits I’d love to see you there. 💛