Positive Self-Talk for Artists: How I’m Learning to Be Kinder to Myself
For most of my life, my inner voice was... let’s say, less than kind.
It told me I was behind.
That I should be further along.
That rest was weakness.
That unless the art sold—or looked a certain way—it didn’t matter.
And I believed it. For a long time.
But here’s what I’ve learned:
The way we speak to ourselves is part of the creative process.
It shapes what we make, how we show up, and whether we keep going when it gets hard.
Positive self-talk isn’t just fluff. For me, it’s been a lifeline.
What Positive Self-Talk Actually Looks Like
Let’s be real—this isn’t about standing in the mirror and yelling affirmations. (Though if that works for you, I support it 💪)
For me, it’s more like this:
Catching the moment I spiral into self-blame... and pausing.
Choosing to narrate my experience with compassion, not criticism.
Learning to tell myself the truth—not the fear-based version.
Replacing “I should be better at this” with “I’m learning, and that’s allowed.”
Positive self-talk isn’t about pretending everything’s fine. It’s about creating enough inner safety that we can stay connected to our creativity—even when we’re unsure.
The Moment I Knew Something Had to Change
A few years ago, I was working on a painting that I later called Manifest. I had this vision of bold feminine energy in motion—but I couldn’t get it “right.” I kept reworking the same section, over and over, until I was in tears.
My inner voice?
“You’re ruining it.”
“You don’t have the skill for this.”
“You should know better by now.”
I was exhausted—not just from painting, but from the emotional toll of being my own harshest critic. That night, I closed the studio early. Not because I was giving up—but because I knew I couldn’t create from a place of violence toward myself.
The next morning, I wrote this in my journal:
“What if I don’t need to be amazing today? What if showing up with care is enough?”
That became the first real shift in how I talk to myself.
Rewriting the Narrative: My Daily Reframes
Here are a few things I used to think—and how I gently reframe them now:
❌ “I should be further along.”
✅ “I’m growing at the pace that’s right for me. Progress isn’t always visible.”
❌ “No one cares about my art.”
✅ “The right people are already connecting with my work—even if I can’t see it yet.”
❌ “I messed this up.”
✅ “Mistakes are part of the process. Nothing is wasted.”
❌ “I’m not doing enough.”
✅ “I’m allowed to rest. My worth is not tied to output.”
These aren’t just lines—they’re interruptions. They stop the shame spiral and offer me a different way forward.
Why This Matters So Much for Artists
Art isn’t just technique—it’s vulnerability. We pour our inner world onto a canvas and then let it be seen. That’s sacred. And scary.
If the voice inside us is hostile, we start protecting ourselves with perfectionism, avoidance, or burnout. We stop experimenting. We start playing small. We forget that we are allowed to evolve.
Positive self-talk gives us permission to try again. To make weird, beautiful, unpolished things. To keep choosing courage—even when our work feels quiet or unseen.
A Ritual You Can Try (It Takes 3 Minutes)
Before I paint—or even open my sketchbook—I take a moment to breathe and say something kind to myself.
Sometimes it’s as simple as:
“You are allowed to take up space.”
“Let the process be enough.”
“Trust what wants to come through.”
You can write your own. Or borrow mine. Whisper it. Write it down. Tape it to your wall. Let it become part of your studio energy.
Art as a Practice of Self-Compassion
Creating through this lens has changed everything.
My latest work, Wildly Resilient, is a reflection of that growth. Three women in yoga flow, rising through roots and branches. It’s not just a visual metaphor—it’s personal. It came from moments where I was re-learning how to speak to myself kindly, even in chaos.
Because resilience isn’t about pushing through. It’s about returning—to your center, to your breath, to your truth. Again and again.
Final Thoughts (And A Gentle Invitation)
If you’ve been hard on yourself lately—if your inner voice sounds more like a drill sergeant than a friend—I want you to know this:
You are not broken. You are becoming.
And you don’t have to be perfect to be powerful.
Try saying one kind thing to yourself today.
Even if it feels awkward. Even if it doesn’t “work” right away.
Do it like watering a seed. Quietly. Repeatedly. With care.
You’ll be amazed what grows from there.
With softness and strength,
Monica
