Just a Girl, Asking You to Care: What it's Really Like to Share Your Work With Others
A few months ago, I asked a circle of trusted friends if they would be willing to review a project I’d been working on for a long, long time. The words were tender, close to my heart and my real life in every way. Before the public saw them, I wanted the feedback and the sign-off of people who know me, both as a writer and a mother.
And there was one person on this list in particular who I really wanted to read these stories.
See, this friend that I asked, we were really close for a long time. But we don’t live in the same state, and as the years have gone on, we’ve both grown, changed, and had to individually figure out the very real challenges life has presented us in unique ways.
But we have not grown together; we’ve grown apart. We haven’t kept up with daily life. The time between texts and voice messages has grown longer and longer. I think asking this friend to read some of my stories was a bit of a final attempt to say, “Hey, here’s what life has really been like. I’d really, really love for you to see it.”
I’d really love for you to see me.
A few weeks after I sent the essays, I got an email response that simply said, “I’m so sorry, I’m not going to have time to read these.” A response that was absolutely within her right to have. She has a full life, kids, work, responsibilities. She probably did not have time to read them, she would have had to make time to read them. And that takes the level of friendship that we no longer have. I understood completely.
But to be honest, I was still pretty bummed about it.
Because I think every time an artist shares her work, she is in some measure asking to be seen.
Do you see what I’ve learned here?
Do you see how brave I tried to be?
Do you see the ways I’m making sense of the world?
Do you see how beautiful this is?
Do you see the way that metaphor works?
Do you see … me?
In our hearts, we are not so different from the preschooler who cannot wait to show us what they made at school. “Look, it’s a flower mom!” she says, as she holds up a yellow and blue mess of finger paint. But “look at this!” is really just code for, “Are you proud of me, mom?”
Isn’t that, in some measure, what we hope to hear when we share our work? Are you proud of me?
And the reality is, we only get the affirmation some of the time. Even from the people that know us, love us, care about us, there is often a radio silence in response to us sending our hearts into the world. (I submit that many of my closest friends never read what I write!) And that’s hard to live with, and can make us gun-shy about sharing our work the next time. Because artists have to find a way to be proud enough of themselves to not always need it from others.
There are only two antidotes to this vulnerability-problem that I can think of:
Be someone who consistently says something about other people’s work. When you have ten minutes, really read the stories other people are putting in the world, and say something meaningful in response. I know it’s silly that we as artists need encouragement as much as we do, but you can change the course of someone’s whole day with an encouraging word for them. Ashlee calls it throwing glitter, and I promise, the more you throw, the more will get thrown on you. Encouragement is generative like that, because creativity really is a team sport.
With every single piece you share, get real clear about your why. Why am I sharing this story? This painting? This photograph? Is this for me to garner likes, or is it to serve the people I am sharing with? Really y’all, ask yourself that before you send anything into the world. I think the more your answers can genuinely be answered with “this is to serve” the more detached you’ll become to affirmation. The dopamine hit only leaves you wanting more and an artist's soul cannot be sustained with dopamine, only with a genuine purpose.
Sharing our work is not easy. Fifteen years into public writing and I’d love to say I live with this beautiful sense of approval apathy, but as much as I try, I don’t. It’s a work in progress. So a little homework assignment for you, for all of us, and it’s so easy: read someone else’s story today, or really look at someone’s photography, or find anyone who has taken the time to create something and make the time to love on them for it. You’re filling the gap between someone releasing their heart into the world and the moment they wait and see where it lands, and it’s really fun to get be that for someone.
Here are a few great places to start:
January 2025 Blog Hop
May 2025 Blog Hop
Exhale Facebook Group
Exhale Member Directory
Exhale Substack Directory