Most days, creating content feels like talking into the wind

I sit alone—camera in hand, laptop open, editing timeline stretched out in front of me. I write, I record, I post. And then, silence. A quiet kind of silence, not just around me but inside me. No comments. No shares. Just a whisper of doubt asking, “Is anyone even watching this?”

It’s not that I don’t enjoy making things—I do. There’s something fulfilling about shaping thoughts into something visual or shareable. But it can still feel pretty lonely. While others seem to ride waves of feedback and recognition, I’m often just floating, wondering if I’ll ever feel that lift.

And then there’s the voice in my head. You probably know it too.

The one that says:

“Someone’s already done this—better.”

“Why are you even trying?”

“Nobody’s paying attention.”

That voice doesn’t disappear, especially when results are slow. But lately, I’ve started to see things a bit differently.

Maybe the 999 times something I made didn’t take off weren’t failures. Maybe that’s just how it goes for most of us. No spotlight. No viral moment. Just the process—repeating itself.

Just showing up.

Alone. Unnoticed. Still making stuff.

And maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Because in all that repetition, something else is happening. I’m learning to speak more clearly. I’m figuring out what matters to me. I’m getting better, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.

There’s also something else that builds quietly: resilience.

I’ve failed a lot—and weirdly, that’s helped. Not because it’s fun. It’s not. But because the more I fail, the less it stings. The less I care about trying to impress people. And when people do start criticizing something I made, well… that might actually mean it’s reaching someone. At least it’s being seen.

I didn’t plan for that. But I think it’s a good trade.

There’s this idea that success should be fast. But that’s not really how it works for most people. Some of the most well-known creators, writers, and artists were rejected hundreds of times before anything happened.

KFC’s founder was told “no” over a thousand times.

Stephen King threw Carrie in the trash before it was published.

J.K. Rowling got 12 rejections.

Van Gogh sold one painting in his life.

It’s not just about talent. Sometimes it’s about not giving up when there’s no applause.

That part? It’s hard.

But if you’re still creating—still trying—that already means something. Even if no one sees it today. Even if you’re not sure you’re getting anywhere.

I’m not saying I have it all figured out. I don’t. I’m still posting into the void most days. Still wondering if any of this matters.

But here’s what I’m starting to believe:

If you’re showing up, you’re not behind.

If you’ve made 999 things no one noticed, maybe you’re just one away from something connecting.

Or maybe not. But even then, those 999 weren’t for nothing. You probably got stronger. Or braver. Or clearer. Or at least, you kept going—and that’s no small thing.

Whatever the case, I’m still here. Making. Learning. Screwing up.

Maybe that’s the only real way forward.