How to Start Creating Without Feeling Embarrassed.

There is a very specific kind of embarrassment that comes with creating something you actually care about.

It’s not necessarily embarrassment because you think the thing is bad. Sometimes you actually like what you made. It’s the thought of someone else seeing you make it.

Posting the outfit. Filming the vlog. Taking photos by yourself in public. Talking to a camera. Sharing something you wrote. Starting the YouTube channel you’ve been thinking about for six months. Telling people you’re a content creator when you still feel like you’re “trying to become one.”

There’s something about being visible that can make you feel incredibly self-conscious.

And honestly? I think that’s one of the biggest things that stops people from creating.

Not a lack of ideas. Not a lack of talent. Not even necessarily a lack of time.

Embarrassment.

That little voice that says, Who do you think you are?

I know that voice very well.

And while I don't think you ever completely get rid of it, I do think you can learn how to create alongside it.

You have to be willing to look a little silly:

I think one of the biggest creative lessons I've learned is that you have to be willing to look a little ridiculous before you get comfortable looking like you know what you're doing.

Nobody starts completely confident.

Nobody films their first YouTube video and suddenly understands their angles, their voice, their editing style, their niche, their thumbnails, their lighting, their everything.

You figure it out by doing it.

And unfortunately, the only way to get through the awkward stage is to actually experience the awkward stage.

You have to post the photo that feels a little cringe.

You have to film the vlog where you don't quite know what you're doing.

You have to write the blog post even though you're convinced nobody is going to read it.

You have to let yourself be a beginner.

Because being bad at something in the beginning isn't a character flaw. It's literally the beginning.

Stop imagining everyone is watching you:

This one changed a lot for me.

When you're creating something, it can feel like you're standing in the middle of a room and everyone is staring at you.

But most people are not thinking about you nearly as much as you think they are.

They're busy thinking about themselves.

They're thinking about what they need to do tomorrow. What they're wearing. Their own work. Their relationships. Their grocery list. Their own insecurities.

And even when someone does notice you filming a video or taking photos?

So what?

You are allowed to be a person doing something interesting in public.

You are allowed to have a camera.

You are allowed to take yourself seriously.

You are allowed to make things.

I think sometimes we act like confidence means not caring what anyone thinks.

I don't think that's true.

Confidence can simply mean caring less about what someone might think than you care about doing the thing anyway.

Start creating before you're ready:

If you're waiting until you feel confident enough to start creating, you might be waiting forever.

Confidence usually comes after you do the thing.

Not before.

You create the video, and then you become a little more comfortable on camera.

You post the photo, and then you become a little less afraid of being perceived.

You publish the blog post, and then you realize the world didn't end.

You do it again.

And again.

And eventually, the thing that once felt terrifying becomes part of your normal life.

That's why I don't really believe in waiting until you're “ready.”

Ready is often just another word for less scared.

And sometimes you have to start while you're still scared.

Permit yourself to experiment:

Another reason creating can feel embarrassing is because we put so much pressure on ourselves to immediately know who we're supposed to be.

What's my niche?

What's my aesthetic?

What's my personal brand?

What if I change my mind?

What if people think I'm inconsistent?

What if I try this and then decide I don't like it?

Girl.

Try it anyway.

You are allowed to experiment.

You can have different creative eras.

You can change your style.

You can start a series and stop it.

You can come back to something you abandoned six months ago.

You can completely reinvent your content.

You can decide that the thing you thought was going to be your whole personality actually isn't for you.

Creating is supposed to involve curiosity.

And curiosity requires room to play.

Create for yourself first:

This doesn't mean you shouldn't care about your audience.

Obviously, if you're building a creative business or growing a platform, your audience matters.

But I think there's something really special that happens when you remember why you started creating in the first place.

Maybe you love photography.

Maybe you love fashion.

Maybe you love writing.

Maybe you love documenting your life.

Maybe you just have a million little thoughts floating around in your head and you want somewhere to put them.

Whatever it is, don't lose that part of yourself because you're trying to make everything perform.

Sometimes the best thing you can do is make something simply because you wanted to see it exist.

That is such a beautiful reason to create.

Make embarrassment smaller:

One of my favorite ways to deal with creative anxiety is to make the stakes smaller.

Don't think:

I'm launching my entire personal brand.

Think:

I'm posting one photo.

Don't think:

I'm becoming a YouTuber.

Think:

I'm filming one video.

Don't think:

Everyone is going to judge this.

Think:

I'm letting this exist on the internet.

Breaking the process down makes it feel much less monumental.

And honestly, most things are less dramatic than our brains make them feel.

You don't have to announce a huge new chapter.

You can just quietly start.

Remember that being seen is part of the point:

If you're creating because you want to share something with other people, eventually you have to let yourself be seen.

That's the uncomfortable part.

But it's also the beautiful part.

Because someone might see your video and feel less alone.

Someone might find your blog post at exactly the right moment.

Someone might see your outfit and finally feel inspired to wear the thing they've been saving in their closet.

Someone might discover a new artist because you talked about them.

Someone might look at your life and think, Wait... maybe I can do that too.

You don't get to know who needs what you create if you never let anyone see it.

And I think that's a much more exciting way to look at visibility.

Instead of asking, What if people judge me?

Try asking:

What if someone actually needs this?

Your first version is not your final version:

Please remember this one.

Your first video isn't supposed to look like your hundredth video.

Your first photos aren't supposed to look like you've been doing photography for ten years.

Your first blog post doesn't have to sound exactly like the writer you eventually become.

Your first attempt is allowed to be messy.

It's allowed to be awkward.

It's allowed to be imperfect.

It is simply evidence that you started.

And I think we underestimate how powerful that is.

Because every creator you admire has a version of themselves that you will never see — the awkward beginning, the bad photos, the weird captions, the videos they don't want anyone to find, the projects that went absolutely nowhere.

That's part of the story too.

You don't have to become fearless:

This might be the most important thing I want you to take away from this.

You don't need to stop feeling embarrassed.

You don't need to become one of those people who can walk into a crowded room and confidently film a TikTok without a second thought.

You don't need to stop caring what people think suddenly.

You just need to stop letting that feeling make your decisions for you.

You can feel embarrassed and post anyway.

You can feel awkward and take the photo anyway.

You can feel like a beginner and call yourself a creator anyway.

You can wonder if anyone cares and make the thing anyway.

That's what creating really is.

It's not the absence of self-consciousness.

It's deciding that what you want to make matters more.

And honestly, I think there's something incredibly brave about that.

So if you've been waiting for permission to start creating, here it is.

Start messy.

Start quietly.

Start badly.

Start anonymously if you need to.

Start with one photo, one paragraph, one video, one idea.

You can figure out the rest later.

And if it feels a little embarrassing?

Well...

welcome to being a creative person.

You'll get used to it.

Eventually, you'll realize that the thing you were once embarrassed to do is simply who you are now.

And I think that's a pretty beautiful transformation.