What We Fear When We Create
Mid-week Musings for the Modern Renaissance Soul
If you’re an artist, writer, or creator of any kind, you’re probably very familiar with the feeling of self-censorship.
If you’ve read The Artist’s Way, if you do Morning Pages, if you’ve ever tried to build a life around your inner world—you probably struggle with this more than most. I know I do.
The voices start creeping in:
the sibling, parent, or friend who always scoffed at your big ideas
the silence from those you cared about when you shared your work in the past
the imaginary laughter from someone online who doesn’t even know you
the people who only ever saw an outdated version of you—and still assume that’s all you’ll ever be
What’s wild is this:
Most of our self-judgment isn’t actually…ours.
It comes from the echoes of other people’s fears, other people’s limitations, and other people’s projections that embedded themselves into us before we even realized what was happening.
We think we’re being “realistic”…but often we’re just repeating an old narrative we never consciously chose.
We think we’re protecting ourselves…but really we’re honoring someone else’s disbelief, or even cowardice.
We think we’re afraid of failing, but usually? We’re afraid of being seen trying.
Afraid of looking stupid, or being cringe.
Afraid of being earnest in a world that worships irony.
Afraid of caring too much in front of people who don’t care at all.
Afraid of being anything less than effortlessly cool for a few moments.
Because trying—really trying—exposes you. It reveals what you want, what you value, what you believe you’re capable of.
And nothing feels more vulnerable than letting people witness your desire.
It’s not failure that we fear. It’s visibility.
There’s a moment every creator knows—that quiet internal negotiation where your desire to express something meets the inherited fear that someone will judge you for it. Like the instinct of a bird to spread its wings, only to discover the cage is much smaller than it remembered.
Most of the time, the fear wins, not because it’s stronger, but because it’s older.
In fact, it’s ancestral. Conditioned. Memorized. Second nature. A poison absorbed into our bodies—like an injection we never consented to.
Not lethal enough to stop your heart…but potent enough to stop your art.
And the wildest part?
The fear doesn’t show up because your work is bad.
It shows up because your work is true—and truth threatens the scripts you were taught to obey.
So if you feel resistance this week, if you feel the discomfort of being witnessed or the urge to retreat into smallness…please remember:
That voice isn’t all yours. And treating it like truth only keeps you living someone else’s story.
You’re allowed to tell your own.
Let’s break the script.
— M. ⟢
P.S.
If this theme resonated, might enjoy my new conversation with Victoriya—a music producer, artist, and entrepreneur who’s built an entire creative life by refusing to shrink herself.
We talk about creativity, wellness, lifestyle design, and the importance of unlearning inherited beliefs.
✦ Watch the episode on YouTube
✦ Listen on Spotify / Apple Podcasts / More


