Dance Anyway: Create When You're Not Motivated
Every photographer struggles with self-doubt and the fear of sharing their work—but showing up to create, even imperfectly, is what separates artists who grow from those who stay stuck. Find your community, create through the hard days, and trust that your work matters to someone.
A student asked me recently, "When does a photographer start to feel comfortable sharing their work with others?" I laughed. Like, really laughed. My response? "We're supposed to get comfortable sharing our images?"
I said it partly in jest. But honestly, it hit close to home. Some of the most talented photographers and artists I know still hesitate to share what they've made. Beautiful, breathtaking work—sitting quietly in a hard drive somewhere, unseen.
Sound familiar?
Why Do So Many Photographers Hold Back?
Almost five years ago, during graduate school, I took a class called Self as Subject. It pushed me further outside my comfort zone than almost anything else in my creative life. I created a series of black-and-white, extreme close-up images documenting the changes I was noticing in my own body—new wrinkles, gray hairs, spidery veins, bruises. Raw, real, and deeply personal.
My original plan was to add to the series every few years as I aged. Five years later? I haven't touched it. And if I did pick it back up—would I even be brave enough to share it?
That tension between creating and sharing is something most photographers carry quietly. We pour ourselves into our art and then hesitate at the moment it matters most.
What Showing Up Really Looks Like
Last month, I went on a shooting trip with two of my closest photographer friends. My body was in full rebellion mode—health struggles that had me wanting to stay in bed, cry, and give up entirely. But those two friends motivated me, encouraged me, and refused to let me disappear into myself. They reminded me why I pick up a camera in the first place.
On the third day, we were shooting inside the abandoned West Virginia State Penitentiary. I was dehydrated, working through real pain, and struggling to regulate my body temperature. Everything in me wanted to quit.
Instead, I walked into a jail cell alone—and I danced.
Not for a project. Not for social media. Just for me, in that moment, to find something light inside something heavy. I never planned to share those images. They didn't fit neatly into any series I'm currently working on. But they were real. They were me, showing up, creating anyway.
Why Your Creative Community Changes Everything
I would not have danced in that jail cell without those two friends beside me—not literally in the cell, but present, supportive, and cheering me on anyway. That kind of creative community is everything.
If you're a photographer who struggles to share your work, ask yourself: who's in your corner? The right people won't just tell you your images are beautiful. They'll show up with you on the hard days. They'll push you when you want to quit and remind you of what you're capable of when you've forgotten.
Seek out those artists. Build each other up. Create together. The work you make alongside people who truly support you will surprise you.
Why You Should Share Your Work—Even When It Scares You
Here's the truth: some people will hate your images. Others will scroll right past them. But for the person who needs to see your work? That one photograph might speak to their heart in a way no words ever could.
You don't have to share everything. You don't have to be fearless. But you do have to show up—messy, uncertain, imperfect, and real. Create through the pain. Create on the days when you're convinced it won't be any good. Because those are often the moments that produce your most honest, powerful work.
Dance Anyway
The best photographs aren't always the most technically perfect. Sometimes they're the ones made in a jail cell, slightly dehydrated, running on encouragement from two good friends and sheer stubborn love of the craft.
So here's my challenge to you: create something this week just for you. No audience, no expectations. And if the day comes when you feel brave enough to share it—share it. The world needs your perspective, your eye, your art.
Find your people. Build your community. And when everything feels too hard to keep going?
Dance anyway.
