The Myth Of The All-Or-Nothing Creator

Photo by cottonbro studio

I have been a storyteller, exaggerator, and scribbler since I was old enough to talk. The stories I read, hear, and write have shaped me in so many ways—challenging my own views and perspectives, and helping me build a vibrant life.

I was nearly finished writing a novel that was very dear to me when life took an unexpected shape. I got into a relationship with the boy I’d always dreamed of, and started taking piano more seriously with competitions, recitals, and even my own following of students. My creativity found an outlet in pouring my soul onto those shiny keys.

It was a new way of storytelling—desperately beautiful, but still different. One day, I pray to accept “different” as good, even at the time of change. I found a love for teaching children my newfound passion, and began creating lessons and music for them.

I found myself very busy with things that were precious and creative, but with less time for the type of writing I aspired to be known for. My novel and its well-developed villain found themselves paused at the very climax of his worst moment, and my private journal was used to record entire conversations or goals I had—not deep backstories I imagined.

I felt guilt at the time. How could I abandon my story? I felt like I’d been led so far in my novel, having written so many complex moments and characters—just to let them come to an abrupt stop. Every day that passed made it harder and harder to want to go back to them. I would read my book and realize that I didn’t quite want the plot to go that way, or I didn’t think that character would truly say what I originally thought.

I was changing. My mind was growing in different colors and shapes than before, and it changed the way I saw the world, and even the things I had created. Growth is a beautiful and good thing, but it felt tragic. Imagine living with a mind so enriched by the world around it, and the stories unfolding in real life, that you’re constantly outgrowing yourself. 

But time heals and changes things.

Now, finally, I see. I wasn’t abandoning the stories inside me. I was allowing the characters in my real life to weave the story that is mine. I was growing as a character, giving myself stories and experiences to stretch my mind and heart… stories worth writing about.

I wish I would’ve given myself more grace.

Now I know that a paused novel is just a story waiting for its author to grow into the person who knows exactly how to finish it.

I hope you’re encouraged knowing that you’re still creating and weaving stories worth being told—whether you physically wrote or created today, or are just living your life the best you can.

. . .

I’m 20 now.

I married that boy who changed my world when I was sixteen, moved close to the ocean, and got a puppy.

I don’t write for countless hours a day like I used to. My journal entries are inconsistent in length and range from daily brain dumps and to-do lists, to imagined what-ifs (in the best way) and weeks of silence.

You know what, though? I’m still creating and writing this life I get to live.

I make memories, I gift myself experiences, I do silly things for the enjoyment of it and to make those around me laugh, I make my home a refuge, and I make room for joy and spontaneous moments. I’m living a wonderful chapter of my own.

I don’t fill as many pages as I used to about my characters—though I still dream of finishing that novel from so long ago. I fill my days with color, though. And I know that when it’s time, the stories I present will be written by a person who can confidently say she’s lived.

May creators alike give each other, and themselves, grace.

Call yourself a musician even if you only play for fun. Isn’t that the point? Call yourself a writer, dancer, singer, cook, photographer, artist, or whatever other beautiful thing you may be.

You don’t have to be all or nothing. You have permission to fill your days with dozens of precious somethings that all shape you and make you feel like yourself.

Go, keep making this world more beautiful.