The Doubts That Almost Held Me Back—And How I Overcame Them

I’m sitting at my desk in my studio and have nothing I need to paint. I have no orders and no invoices to create. Right now there is a huge crate on its way back from New York City, packed full of paintings that I didn't sell. I probably have close to 200 paintings on canvas and paper that all need homes. Art Expo was a giant flop. I got out of there by the skin of my teeth, barely breaking even on my investment. I feel fortunate that I even did that much.

But now I don't really have an art business anymore. Art Expo was supposed to open new doors for me. I was going to connect with industry leaders and have a whole new list of people to do business with. But instead I got blacklisted, and not only did I not get any new business, but anyone that used to sell my art won't work with me anymore.

So I have to reinvent myself and figure out how to sell art from the beginning. I’m full of self-doubt and wonder if I am even a real artist. All the words of past dealers swim in my head on repeat: You artists are only as good as the people who buy your work. If it wasn't for us finding you people willing to buy, you couldn't make it. You are lucky we are willing to sell your work for you, or else you would starve.

The Work of Starting Over

I know that I need to apply to galleries and find new representation. I know I need to contact new licensing agents and get new contracts. I know I have to pull it together, or we really won't be able to eat. I’m just so full of doubt and afraid that it's over. Maybe the last 10 years have just been a big fluke, and I was only lucky. Lucky to find a few dealers who were willing to sell my art for me, but they can easily sell another artist who is better.

I’m fumbling around the internet looking for new galleries anywhere in the United States that might have an art market. I have this stupid Mac on my desk that I still can't figure out how to use. My brother told me several months ago I wasn't a real artist unless I used a Mac. So I followed his advice when my last PC crashed and have regretted it. It's a whole new operating system and I’m way out of my comfort zone.

As I think about contacting a whole bunch of new galleries and showing them our art, I feel like a big phony and like my art isn't good enough. I wonder if there is even any point. I decide, like a robot, I will systematically find 100 galleries that seem to fit our market, send each of them examples of our art, and hope at least five of them will get back to me. Just finding 100 galleries might take me a solid week of non-stop scouring of the internet. But I have to do it. At least all of the rejection will take place in email, so I don't have to face it and I can cry alone in peace.

The Artist's Rollercoaster

In my 30 years as a professional artist and business owner, I have faced more self-doubt and unbelief than I can count. It is a constant battle. If I'm not doubting myself in terms of skill, then I am doubting how original I am or fearing that I’m not creative enough. If I feel okay about my art, then I struggle with doubting my decisions as a business owner and wonder if I will ever build things to the level of my vision. I start to wonder if my vision even achievable.

Even after all of this self-doubt, I still have more. I doubt that people like me and worry about being awkward and saying dumb things at the wrong time, or what I mean to say not coming out right and facing the embarrassment. I have struggled with belief in myself many times over the years. It has taken on many forms and come in many different packages. Failures and setbacks have magnified the doubts to a point where I feel like I could be forever broken.

Being an artist can feel like a giant emotional rollercoaster where someone says something rude about your art and you feel shredded, and then a few days later you make the biggest sale of your life and you are back on top again, only to lose confidence again when something doesn’t go your way.

It’s exhausting. Debilitating. Heart wrenching. Why do we take it all so personally? Why can making a bad painting make us cry like a kindergartener?

Enough Is Enough

At some point, I finally got sick of it. I got tired of the doubts, negative self-talk, and hinging my success on what other people think. I got tired of the opinions of “they” shaping my mood or productivity or decisions. I didn't want to care what other people thought anymore. I didn't want circumstances, setbacks, or low points to steal my life from me or rob me of what I am capable of. I had to get past this. I had to grow up.

I had to get spiritually strong. I determined that I would journal every day and listen to what God says. I would write down every word, impression, vision, idea, or thought that comes from God. I kept a journal on my Mac desktop in Pages, a new program I was trying to learn. I would write power statements, affirmations, and visuals of what success looked like that week. I would fight for every moment of positivity and hope I could get.

I would prophesy to myself that I was born for this! I have a mandate on my life to build an art movement that would bring heaven to earth and restore Beauty in the arts. I had all that I need and the storehouses of heaven were open to me. That God had heaps and heaps of blessings for me. Art buyers are lined up waiting for my next painting and I have endless streams of creativity. Nothing could take me out because God was with me and this was HIS dream.

I focused on what God was doing and starved negativity. I disallowed a single negative thought to enter my mind, and when doubt came, even as a shadow, I delved deep into my vision and re-read my journal pages until I felt renewed again.

Every failure and setback was just a learning opportunity for how I could do better. Every door that shut in front of me was not my door. Every “no” meant that a “yes” was in the near future. I fed my dreams and starved my doubts.

Building Belief

Over time, I slowly changed my friends and the books I read. I stopped watching movies and wasting time on anything unimportant. All of these changes built my confidence and made me feel more successful, and successes followed consistently. I still failed occasionally and made a few bad decisions and got mixed up with the wrong crowd, but I also had some big successes and worked with some incredible people.

I found that as long as I entertained self-doubt and put up with it in my life, I wouldn't take risks. I didn't have the confidence to try new things or stretch myself for bigger goals.

It took six months of consistent work, but John and I got our work into 14 galleries from the 100 I contacted. Some of the galleries never sold a painting, and some sold art almost every week. We got out of our pit after Art Expo and began working directly with galleries building a network that was reliable and fulfilling.

The most rewarding part was not feeling that sickening darkness of self-doubt anymore. A new freedom came with it. I felt free to dream big and allow hope to soar. I possessed the belief to even speak out my dreams and declare them with confidence and sureness.

And it all started that day in the studio, staring down the screen of my mysterious Mac and deciding to face the unknown—to take one step after another regardless of how I felt. I had to learn that sometimes belief comes after you take action, not before. And the more we take action without needing to feel sure of ourselves, the quicker we will see success and feel our confidence grow.

Have you ever doubted yourself and taken action anyway?