Let’s talk about shame.
A while ago, I did a workshop for members of f22, the women’s group within the UK’s Association of Photographers. I love hanging out with this group online and seeing their work. Which is often breath-taking, beautiful, provocative, insightful. And always interesting.
These are brilliant photographers, doing excellent work. Given the number of photos that have already been taken and continue to be uploaded daily, it astonishes and delights me that creative professionals are still able to find new ways of seeing.
I see this as a gift that these talented creators are sharing with the viewer. But that was not the story they were telling themselves.
When they talked about approaching clients about work, these professional photographers used words like ‘badgering’, ‘pestering’ and ‘nagging’.
They didn’t see themselves as offering a service that could help their clients, a mutually beneficial collaboration. They saw themselves as begging, needy, powerless. Or as unpleasantly pushy.
This is a mistake many of us make.
I hear the same kind of words from artists, designers, writers, musicians, makers. From all creatives, in fact.
It stops us sharing, showing, selling our work. We hide. We’re timid and polite. We worry too much about what people will think. We’re scared of coming across as arrogant, pushy, full of ourselves.
We can see the flaws in our work, the bits that didn’t come out as well as we hoped – and we feel compelled to point those out, instead of just accepting praise when it’s offered. Or we’re so self-critical, so afraid of rejection, of failure, that we don’t show the work at all. The same doubts and fears stop us approaching new clients with our services – even when we know it would benefit them.
So I have a suggestion. It’s easy to make, much harder to do. But the rewards are huge.
Be shameless.
Webster’s dictionary defines ‘shameless’ as having or showing no feeling of shame, modesty, or decency; brazen; impudent.
But when you’ve put your heart and soul into a body of work, why should you feel shame about sharing it? You’ve made this. So why should you be modest about it? As for decency: the definition of that shifts, with every generation. But the shame around outdated beliefs tends to linger.
If you have talent, you have skills, you have work that might inspire, inform or give people joy; if you offer services that could help people grow their business, make something more useful or beautiful.. isn’t it indecent to withhold that from them?
You’re not forcing anyone to look at what you’ve made, to use it, buy it, enjoy it. Or to book your services. But people can’t do any of these things if you don’t put your work out there and help them find it.
To be discovered, we need to make ourselves discoverable.
What is the opposite of shameless?
- Should we feel shame about our work, about the hours, days, years that go into learning our craft and producing our music, our novels, our art, our designs?
- Or ashamed of creating beauty, telling stories that captivate or educate, solving problems, moving people, entertaining them or making them laugh?
- Should we feel shame about talking about our work, our process, why we’re compelled to do what we do?
Here’s Brene Brown’s definition: “Shame is that warm feeling that washes over us, making us feel small, flawed, and never good enough.”
Perhaps that sounds familiar?
Shame stops us earning the money we deserve. It stops us from introducing our work to the people who will love what we do and be thrilled when we make more of it.
It stops us showing up as our brilliant, authentic selves, and making the work we really want to make.
Of course, not everyone will love what you do. It’s all about finding your people, your audience, then saying to them: “I made this for you. Would you like to know more?” Or, “Here’s what I do, and how it could help you. Would you like to discuss that?”
Some questions to consider:
It might help to journal about this, to sort out your thoughts and perhaps question some of your assumptions around this.
- What would you do to promote your work if you were absolutely shameless?
- Is there something you would try if you knew you couldn’t fail?
- What would you do to get more clients/more commissions/more funding if you didn’t care what people thought of you?
- What might be fun? What could you share that would excite, entertain or be useful to your audience or your clients?
- Think of the creative you consider most fearless, then ask: what would they do, in my situation? As a chronically shy young journalist who went a fetching shade of beetroot whenever anyone looked at me, I got a long way in the early 80s with the question: What would Madonna do now?
Be brazen. Be pushy and bold.
They’re only words – and words that are often used by those in power to keep the rest of us in our place.
When I was a magazine editor, there were often times when we’d lost a story, or extra ads had come in and we suddenly had more pages to fill. Or when we had most of the content commissioned, but the balance felt somehow off.
If someone then comes in with a set of pictures, a story or a proposal that fits that gap perfectly, let me tell you: it doesn’t feel like you’re being badgered, pestered, begged or nagged. It feels like a precious gift.
It’s all about timing.
And as none of us can predict the future, the only way you can offer the right idea to the right person at the right time is to make lots and lots of offers.
This involves rejection, of course. And that’s hard. But it’s somehow easier when you’re getting rejected or ignored a lot, rather than putting your heart and soul into one pitch then having it ignored or turned down.
There are always other sides to a story. What we see as being pushy, the client might see as a welcome reminder. We think we’re repeating ourselves endlessly, shouting about what we do. When most people haven’t even noticed we’re speaking yet.
You only need one yes.
If you are willing to approach 100, 200, 300 potential new clients, galleries, retailers, venues, agents, outlets, funding bodies with your work, your ideas, your services, you will get rejected. A lot.
But you will also get some sales and commissions. And if you follow up on those, and build relationships with the people who do appreciate your work, it will turn into a living.
Call it being persistent and brave. Or pushy and brazen. The labels don’t matter. But the behaviour does. You need to keep going through that dark, thorny thicket of no to reach the yes you want.
We often give up altogether or resign ourselves to making our art without making a real living from it. Yet there might only a few hundred more emails, pitches, phone calls – a few more gatekeepers saying no – between us and the success we want.
So don’t be modest.
Don’t be Cinderella, waiting for an invitation to the ball. Fairy godmothers are magical if you find one, but they’re also rare as unicorns. So make your own damn ball-dress and blag your way in if no one sends you a gilt-edged invitation.
Be shameless. Brazen. Pushy. Impudent, even. What have you got to lose?
Find your people, the ones who love what you do, then serve them, connect with them, build a community as well as an audience.
And if you get the success you want, be graceful and grateful. Open the doors for more creatives. Use your influence to draw attention to up-and-coming talent. Invest in their work. And enjoy the life and the work you’ve created. Shamelessly.
What do you think?