Confidence stole my safety net

This week, I realised I'd made a transition - I had finally become confident in my art. And I realised that confidence comes with its own challenges. That I now have something new to overcome.

First let me explain, because you might be surprised to hear I lacked confidence... well, it's true.

Deep confidence is something I've wanted for a very long time, and something that has, until now, eluded me. No amount of compliments – or even sales – could convince me that my art had value.

I know you understand this feeling. I know you've either felt it in the past, or you're feeling it right now. Friends tell you you're good; people compliment your work online, and maybe you even sell a few paintings.

But underneath, you still feel wobbly. ("Yes... but is it objectively good?" asks a little voice in your head).

I think every artist goes through this.

We're trying to do something with no rules and no guidelines. We're on a long journey with no map or GPS to help us navigate. So naturally, we look outside ourselves for reassurance that we're heading in the right direction. ("Do you like it?" "Am I good enough?")

Here's what I've learned this year: true confidence never comes from their answers. It doesn't matter how many people tell you you're good unless, somewhere deep down, you believe it too.

And you don't come to believe it through sales, prizes, exhibitions or jury selections, tempting though that idea is.

"If I just win that prize..."

"If I get into that show..."

"If I sell twenty paintings this year..."

...then I'll know I'm a good artist.

Except that's not what happens.

You win the prize; you get into the exhibition; you sell the paintings. And the nagging insecurity simply moves the goalposts or makes excuses for why the success happpened.

So where does confidence come from?

Yes, the answer is "from within" — but probably not in the way you might think. It doesn't come from affirmations or journalling your way into new beliefs. For me, it has come from becoming so deeply immersed in my own work that I became almost untouchable.

If the work I'm making comes from somewhere genuinely personal, and therefore couldn't be made by anyone else, then external opinions become much less important.

I no longer need people to tell me whether it's good because they're no longer the experts on what I'm trying to do.

And confidence follows naturally.

I know my work won't be to everyone's taste and that's OK - people are allowed to like different things.

Instead of worrying about that, I find myself going deeper and deeper into the work itself. And the deeper I go, the more confidence I have. I can speak fluently about it because I've spent years thinking about it. I can enter competitions knowing that, whether people love it or hate it, nobody else will have entered exactly what I've entered.

If you currently lack confidence, this might sound wonderful.

And it is.

But, as with so many things in life, solving one problem simply reveals the next one. Because once you truly believe in your work, you lose your excuses.

If I genuinely believe my work has something to say, then I can't keep hiding behind self-doubt. I can't tell myself, "I'm not ready yet." I can't quietly stay in my comfort zone while pretending I'm waiting to become more confident.

Confidence removes that escape route and asks different things of you.

It asks you to be more visible, to be more ambitious, to put the work in front of bigger audiences, and to knock on doors you previously assumed were closed.

To risk hearing "no", not because you doubt yourself, but because you finally believe the work deserves to be seen.

I think that's the challenge I'm facing now.

Once you become confident, you have to start behaving that way.