Working Like We Love Ourselves as Artists & Creatives

Part 1: A reflection on care, sustainability, and redefining how we show up for our creative work.

As artists and creatives, most of us genuinely love what we do. We pour our hearts, tremendous care, and deep attention into our work: the ideas we shape, the pieces we refine, the things we bring into the world. And yet, so often, we don’t extend that same tenderness to ourselves. We show up for our work, our clients, our collaborators, our audiences, but not always for ourselves. Over time, it becomes a pattern that’s hard to break. It took me a long time to recognize this pattern in my own creative life (decades if I’m honest!), and it’s something I see in many (if not most) of the artists and creatives I coach. We push ourselves, set unreasonable expectations, and judge ourselves way too harshly. A few years back, inspired by Adriene Mishler (Yoga with Adriene) and her gentle reminders to “move like you love yourself,” I began thinking about what it might look like to take that philosophy off the yoga mat and into our creative lives—to work like we love ourselves, even (and especially) on our busiest days. This is an invitation to try.

Just imagine what it might look like to be intentional about honoring our needs as creative humans. Not as an afterthought or a reward for working hard enough, but as a foundational part of how we work. I’ve worked with so many artists and creatives who feel enormous pressure to stay in constant hustle mode, often at the expense of their most basic physical needs. Sleep gets sacrificed. Meals become irregular or rushed. Hydration is forgotten. Movement and physical maintenance fall off the list entirely. We expect ourselves to keep producing, creating, and delivering as if our bodies don’t matter. But we are not machines. We need downtime, fuel, and care to function well. When we ignore that reality, we risk burnout, injury, and illness. 

Beyond our physical needs, we creative humans have other essential requirements that are just as real. We need inspiration, play, and experimentation. We need time and space to explore ideas without immediately turning them into something productive or profitable. We need opportunities to express ourselves creatively in ways that feel nourishing, not just extractive. We need our creative work to mean something, to contribute to something meaningful to us, others and the world. These needs aren’t indulgent or optional. They are what fuel our creativity, shape our direction, and connect us to a sense of meaning and purpose in our work. When these needs go unmet for too long, our spark begins to dim.

Working like we love ourselves also asks us to reconsider how we manage our energy. Many of us expect ourselves to jump from one thing to the next with no space to breathe, reset, or integrate what we’ve just done. I say this as someone who used to pride myself on being able to operate this way. I wore my capacity to push through exhaustion like a badge of honor. But constant intensity without recovery comes at a cost. Caring for our energy means building in rest, transitions, and rhythms that support sustainability, not just output.

Then there’s the way we talk to ourselves. As creatives, we spend a lot of time in our own heads, and what we say to ourselves matters. We can be extraordinarily harsh when we feel we aren’t being productive enough, fast enough, or successful enough. We judge our progress against others. We question our abilities. And when we feel excited about a new direction or opportunity, derailing questions often creep in: What if I’m not good at it? What if I fail? What if I embarrass myself? What will people think? We fill our mental space with everything that could go wrong. Over time, we talk ourselves out of taking risks, sending the email, making the proposal, or stepping into the unknown. Creativity narrows. Possibility shrinks. We get stuck.

This is something I’ve had to learn, slowly and intentionally, in my own creative life and work. I’m still learning it. Letting go of constant urgency, building in care, and redefining what “good work” actually looks and feels like has been a practice, not a one-time decision.

It’s also one of the shifts I most love supporting clients to make. When artists and creatives begin to work in ways that honor their bodies, energy, curiosity, and develop a kinder inner dialogue, something changes. The work becomes more sustainable. Decision-making gets clearer. Burnout loosens its grip. And often, the creativity itself feels more alive and more honest. This isn’t about doing less or lowering standards or justifying excuses. It’s about creating the conditions that allow meaningful work, and we the people making it, to thrive.

As you think about your current creative life,

where are you asking more of yourself than you’re caring for?

What might shift if you offered yourself the same attention, patience, or care

you give to your work?

Photo Credit: Michael Evans

In Part Two, I’ll shift from reflection to practice, sharing tools and prompts for paid subscribers to Ways To Be A Creative on Substack to support you in exploring what working like you love yourself might look like in your own creative life.

Consider becoming a paid subscriber to get access to this next post and more content designed to support your growth as a creative professional.