holding space for doubt - honest shop launch reflection

Yesterday, I launched my shop. If you’ve followed my journey, you know this has been a long time coming. I’ve spent months perfecting my products and working on engagement, trying to strike a balance between professionalism and approachability—and, honestly, it hasn’t (yet) led to a purchase.

It’s still very early days, but I can’t help thinking about it. I keep reflecting: Why does this weigh so heavily on my mind? With all the changes of the past months—including moving—I’m constantly focused on my next steps: what I want to learn, achieve, and create. The whole process has felt quite solitary at times. I’m still finding my community here and learning how to balance productivity with building new connections.

While I’m new to selling my work, I’ve been creating for as long as I can remember. The leap into the “professional” side is daunting—not for lack of passion, but sometimes for lack of confidence, and mostly, for lack of opportunity. Now, having taken these steps and built a space to share my voice and style, it’s easy in quieter moments to feel like all my effort has added up to very little—just a few likes and reposts from my loved ones.

But that’s not the whole story. I’ve learned so much—not just about my creative process and motivation, but also about what works (and what doesn’t) when building an online presence. Web design, product photography, and plenty of self-discovery have all become part of the journey. Funnily enough, I also learned the importance of double-checking dates. It turns out the day didn’t quite match the date I announced for the launch! I didn’t expect that to be something I’d need to learn, but it gave us a good laugh at home, at least.

This experience has also highlighted the value of a creative community—and how much more I want to nurture that in both my life and work.

It’s tempting to let doubt take over, but I don’t want to sound negative or ungrateful. I recognise this is all part of the journey, and it’s still early days. Every challenge and every blank space is an opportunity for growth—as an artist, a business owner, and a person.

I wanted to share this honest reality for anyone who’s listening, especially if you’re walking a similar path. There’s excitement, uncertainty, and—hopefully—a sense of connection as we grow and learn together.

So, I keep going. I’m eager to get back to more tactile mixed media; I’m especially keen to see if a blend of crocheting, sewing, and painting is possible. But for now, I’m also going to take a couple of days to rest. The last few weeks have involved a lot of sleep deprivation, and one thing I’m learning is just how much my health needs to be integrated into my creative process. I’m not sure exactly how yet—but maybe that’s a topic for another Friday post.

Have you had similar experiences? Do any of these reflections resonate with you? I’d love to hear your thoughts or stories—feel free to share in the comments.

P.S. Here’s a photo of Paddy, my current foster, keeping me company on one of those late bookbinding nights. He’s been a reliable presence during all the chaos—even if he mostly just supervises from a comfy spot

See you next friday!