THE INSPIRATION PLACE PODCAST
Miriam Schulman: She said. I feel like I don’t have the right to charge more. I mean, I just started doing this during Covid and I look around at these other artists and they’ve been doing this for 30 years and, well, I feel embarrassed. Not because she hadn’t worked hard, not because she didn’t believe in her art, but because a part of her still believed she had to qualify to be taken seriously.
Speaker 2: It’s The Inspiration Place podcast with artist Miriam Schulman. Welcome to the The Inspiration Place podcast, an art world insider podcast for artists by an artist, where each week we go behind the scenes to uncover the perspiration and inspiration behind the art. And now your host, Miriam Schulman.
Miriam Schulman: Hey there! I’m Miriam Schulman, author of Artpreneur and host of The Inspiration Place podcast. So I want to start this episode with a little confession. When I wrote my book Artpreneur, I told myself, or I thought I was going to feel proud that holding in my hands right here, seeing it on the bookshelves, hearing from readers, that would be enough. And it was for a little while. But then a quiet voice, or maybe not so quiet voice crept in. The one that says it’s not enough unless it sells a certain number of copies. It’s not enough unless it stays in print. It’s not unless I write another one. Because if I don’t, I might disappear. I might become irrelevant. And that fear, the fear of disappearing, of being forgotten. It didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s a fear I’ve carried since childhood. When I lost my father at age five, and again when my family moved across town in the fourth grade, and I had to start over at a new school. Actually, we moved many times. So that deep, aching question do I still matter if I’m not being seen? And it’s followed me through every stage of my life, even now, with a business I love, with incredible clients, with a book in the stores, I still might find myself measuring my worth in metrics and sales and downloads and speaking invitations, and whether I’m still relevant now. I’ve coached creatives long enough to know I’m not alone in this.
Miriam Schulman: That’s why I wanted to do this episode, not to give you a five step plan to beat the algorithm, but to talk about something deeper. The fear that maybe you’ve aged out, or that you’ve been too quiet for too long, or that your moment has passed Past and no one noticed or that your best work is behind you. This isn’t mindset fluff. This is about our survival brains, our identity, and reclaiming our voice. Even when the world feels like it’s moving on without you. So let’s talk about it. Let’s name it. Let’s bring it into the light. Defining fear of irrelevance. So what exactly is fear of irrelevance? That may not be a word you relate to, but it’s that quiet panic that rises when you feel like the world is moving on without you. It’s the voice that says you used to matter. People used to care. But now. And it’s not just about followers or sales. It goes deeper than that. Fear of irrelevance is what shows up when your identity has been built around performance being seen, accomplishments being needed, being recognized. Not all those things, but some of those things. And suddenly you’re not. It’s that ache you feel when your inbox is quiet, when your posts get ignored, when your phone doesn’t ring. It’s what might make you think maybe I missed my chance, or I have to hustle harder to prove I still belong.
Miriam Schulman: Or maybe my best work is behind me. Maybe I’m washed up. And here’s the thing. It doesn’t always look like fear. This is something I talk about a lot. Our brains have evolved for survival, not goal achievement. And our brains are not going to register all the time that it’s a fear thing. Sometimes our brain is going to register something else. You have a fear that makes your body feel uncomfortable. Your brain will go into story mode and tell you all kinds of stories. While doing something is a bad idea and it will not feel like an excuse, it will feel real to you, which is why you don’t always perceive that it’s fear driving the bus. Sometimes it’s going to show up like this. It’s going to show up as overachieving, cranking out content, launching new offers, online classes, saying yes to things you don’t even want. Sometimes it looks like hiding, procrastinating, disappearing, convincing yourself you’re just regrouping. It’s not a good time now. And sometimes it looks like resentment. Watching others rise and thinking, why them? Why not me? But at its core, fear of irrelevance. Is this the belief that if you’re not constantly visible or validated, you’ll stop mattering. And that belief, it’s not your truth. It’s a survival response. It’s one rooted in old trauma, in capitalism and how the culture treats women as they age, as artists, as they evolve, as humans, as they age and slow down.
Miriam Schulman: And it’s not your fault that you feel it, but you don’t have to let it run the show. Fear of irrelevance as a trauma response. This fear is not just about algorithms or aging out. It’s deeper. It’s older. It’s a trauma response. Oh, and by the way, the section breaks is for YouTube, not necessarily for the podcast version. The audio version. For me, it goes all the way back to childhood, growing up in a narcissistic family system where appearances were everything were how you were seen mattered more than who you really were. And I wasn’t the golden child. I was the scapegoat. I was praised publicly when it made the family look good. The smart one, the talented one, the future success story. But behind closed doors, I was punished. I was picked apart. I was reminded constantly that I still wasn’t good enough. Whether it came in the form of I wasn’t thin, my hair didn’t look right, I wasn’t dressing the right way. My accomplishments were not the accomplishments they wanted me to have. Like being a doctor or marrying a doctor. So I basically was being always being told I wasn’t good enough. So I internalized this impossible loop shine just enough to be useful, but not so much that you threaten anybody. Be successful, but don’t be too emotional. Be impressive, but never make a scene. And that contradiction hardwired a fear in me. If I’m not visibly achieving, I might not just be forgotten.
Miriam Schulman: I might be blamed or rejected or even cut off. And even now, that old story creeps in. Even now, after building a business, writing a book, leading hundreds of artists, I still feel like I have to earn my place over and over again. That’s what fear of irrelevance really is for so many of us. It’s not ego, it’s not vanity, but it’s a survival strategy. Because when your nervous system equates being successful with being safe, of course you’re going to panic when things get quiet. Of course you’re going to scramble to be useful, to be visible, to be liked. Of course, you wonder, will they still want me if I stop proving myself? But here’s what I want you to know. And what I’m still learning to believe myself. You don’t have to earn your right to exist. You don’t have to hustle to matter. You are never irrelevant to begin with. Let me tell you about one of my clients. And I’ve changed all clients names to protect their privacy. I’m going to tell you about my client, Steven. He is a 72 year old photographer who’s been making images for decades. Truly talented. His work is thoughtful, intimate and quiet, just like him. When we spoke, he shared something that caught me off guard. I had been thinking about fear of irrelevance for myself, but what he shared with me was, you know, I don’t quite relate to what you’re talking about, but I do relate to feeling invisible and I do relate to feeling not good enough.
Miriam Schulman: And I do fear that my work might seem trivial. That distinction stopped me in my tracks because what is fear of irrelevance really, is the fear that your voice doesn’t matter, that your work won’t land, that you are becoming invisible. So you may not relate to the word irrelevance, but if you feel invisible, same thing, same thing. Not because your art has changed, but because maybe the world has forgotten you or they forgot to look. Now Steven has an Instagram account. I was looking at it the other day. It has like 1400 followers. Decent. But guess what? He hasn’t posted in over six months. Not because he’s lazy or resistant, but because every time he considers showing up. Something in his body recoils and shrinks instead of making a post or sending an email. He arranges things on his desk. He sorts through old Lightroom files. He maybe updates his website. He does what feels productive. It’s kind of like productive avoidance. That’s what fear does. It doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it hides in the quiet, in broad daylight, and in boxes that get left unopened in newsletters that get unwritten. He told me it like he can go weeks without even checking his email, and there’s a lot of missed opportunities in that inbox. Emails that he never sends.
Miriam Schulman: Never reads courses he bought but never logged into. I know Stephen’s not alone in this. Another artist shared something very similar to me about this. She said she feels crippled sometimes by the amount of details, the email, the text stuff, and it just shuts her down. That’s how it looks like. Fear of invisibility masquerading as disorganization. Fear of rejection. Wearing the costume of busyness. Fear of irrelevance. Whispering. Don’t open that email. You’ll only see what you haven’t done. Stephen doesn’t frame it as fear of irrelevance. He would never use those words, but his actions tell the story the way he ghosts his own goals, the way he disappears from the platforms that once brought connection, and the way he stops himself before anyone else can. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he cares so much that the risk of not being received is unbearable. So he protects himself the only way he knows how. He vanishes first. That’s the cruel irony. In trying to avoid the pain of irrelevance, you make yourself invisible. In order to avoid the pain of feeling invisible, you make yourself invisible. Of course, we couldn’t fix this in one session. That’s not how trauma works. But I did share this with him, and I hope this helps you. What if your silence isn’t you giving up? It’s you trying to stay safe. And what if staying visible doesn’t mean performing? It can mean staying connected with yourself.
Miriam Schulman: A mantra that I share with some of my clients is whatever it is they’re avoiding. I will say to them it is safe to and fill in the blank like it is safe to send an email. It is safe to open my inbox. It is safe to post on Instagram. And that helps. Now he didn’t answer me right away when I shared this with him, but he looked up. He stayed and sometimes staying in that discomfort is where the real healing begins. When we come back, I’m going to share how sometimes this core wound shows up as someone who doesn’t hide but hustles harder. But first these words. Hey artists, if you’ve been ghosting your own goals, procrastinating on your visibility plan, or just, well, feeling off, I want you to know you don’t have to untangle that alone inside the Artist Incubator we don’t just give you business strategy, we offer deep, consistent mindset coaching to twice a month. We meet live. Or you can watch the recordings to unpack the emotional layers that hold artists back. Fear of being seen. Taming the overwhelm. Money. Stories. Pricing. Panic. Perfectionism. And yes, exactly what we’ve been talking about. Fear of irrelevance. Because showing up as an artist isn’t just about your to do list. It’s about staying connected to your voice, your work, and your why. Now, if you’re ready for support that honors both the business and the human behind the art, come join us inside the incubator.
Miriam Schulman: Go to SchulmanArt.com/BIZ. I. That’s b as in boy, I as in ice cream. Z as in zebra. See if the incubator is open right now. If you’re watching this while it goes live, it’ll be open, but not for long. Schulmanart.com to learn more. And now let’s get back to the show. Now, not everyone disappears when they’re feeling irrelevant or invisible. Some people, like my client Sandra, try harder. Maybe too hard. They show up, they push, they smile. But underneath they’re wondering if they even have the right to take up space. So Sandra is an artist who started making her art during the pandemic. She poured herself into her work, built a website, started selling, took big leaps, even joined, of course, as you know, the Artist Incubator. But when I asked her how she felt about sharing her news site, she hesitated. And then she said, almost like she was apologizing. I feel like I don’t have the right to charge more. I mean, I just started doing this during Covid and I look around at these other artists and they’ve been doing this for 30 years and, well, I feel embarrassed. Embarrassed. Not because she hadn’t worked hard, not because she didn’t believe in her art, but because a part of her still believed she had to qualify to be taken seriously. That she had to earn the right to price her work, or even share it through years of service credentials or silent suffering.
Miriam Schulman: So while Stephen disappears out of fear, no one’s listening. Sandra keeps showing up, but with a self-imposed muzzle. She keeps her wins small, her rates low, her site quiet just in case somebody calls her out for being too much, too new, too bold, too expensive. Who do you think you are? That’s how fear works. Fear of irrelevance doesn’t always mean I’m too old. Sometimes it means I haven’t done enough yet to belong. It tells you you’re not legitimate. Not credible. Not ready. There it is again. I’m not ready yet. And so we discount ourselves, Literally and metaphorically. Before anyone else can. So I reminded Sandra, people don’t pay for how long you’ve been making your art. They pay for how you work, makes them feel. You could see the flicker in her eyes, that flush of maybe. But like Stephen, she wasn’t ready to fully believe it yet. And that’s okay. Coaching isn’t about making someone suddenly feel confident. That’s not how it works. It’s about helping them notice the story that they’ve been telling themselves, the story that they’re living in, and deciding whether they want to keep telling themselves that story, whether it’s still true. Hearing Stephen and Sandra share their stories reminded me how differently fear can live in us. Stephen retreats. Sandra questions whether she belongs. What about me? I’m not immune to this. I don’t hide. But you know what I do.
Miriam Schulman: I push when I feel that creeping fear that I’m falling behind. That I’ve peaked. That I’m not doing enough to stay relevant. I don’t shut down. I pile more on. And I’m telling you this. Not because it’s a good thing. This is what can lead to burnout. I started writing a second book even before the first one had its full life. I doubled down on content. Maybe I should be publishing my podcast twice a week. Or maybe I do an extra launch. I’m proving myself. I tell myself, no, no, no, no. I’m being productive. But you know what’s underneath? It’s panic. It’s panic dressed up like performance. And do you want to hear the voice that drives it? It’s not loud or mean, but it’s just a little Insistent you’re falling behind. You need to do more. If you stop now, they’ll forget. I know that voice. It’s old. It’s kind of a mix of my mother’s expectations along with my own internalized worthiness. Contract. The one that says I only matter when I’m making something exceptional. When I published Artpreneur. Do you know what my mother said to me? She told me I should write a novel next. A novel not. I’m proud of you. Not. This is amazing, but a redirect. A quiet reminder that Miriam, this still wasn’t good enough. Because to her, real literature means fiction. That’s what she values. That’s what she reads. So even in the moment that I was celebrating this huge milestone, I received the message again that what I created wasn’t enough.
Miriam Schulman: Not because it wasn’t good, but because it wasn’t hers. And by that I mean she values things that mirror her own performance, her own tastes, her own worldview. And if we go a little deeper, especially with the narcissistic family systems, it’s not just about tastes or preferences, it’s about identity reinforcement. So in that framework, my success is only meaningful if it reflects her values. In other words, fictions equals real literature. I’ve been dealing grappling with this my whole life. My sister became a doctor and I went to work on Wall Street, but it wasn’t good enough because it wasn’t a doctor. She just never accepted or understood. She respects things that elevates her status. Look what my daughter accomplished and how it makes me look. Or it makes it reinforces her idea of herself as the tastemaker, the one who knows best. So the message wasn’t just, this isn’t what I like. It was. This doesn’t reflect well enough on me. Do you know how many times my mother’s been pushing me to do a book reading at the Fort Lee library where she lives? Because that’s what’s going to make her look good. No, she doesn’t listen to the podcast, by the way, in case you’re wondering. I was telling my husband that I was going to share this, this truth. And he says, you really want to do that? I go, my mom doesn’t listen to the podcast, and her one friend who did listen to the podcast passed away.
Miriam Schulman: And I’m too old to worry about this anymore. I want to tell my own truth and my own stories without worrying about what my family thinks. That’s the way I’m going to live the rest of my life now. The subtle message to me was, this isn’t what I like. This doesn’t reflect well on me. Or even more painfully, this isn’t the kind of brilliance I want to be associated with. And that’s why it stunk. Because what I created was powerful, meaningful. It is successful by any metric, but it didn’t feed her identity. It didn’t reinforce her fantasy of herself. It didn’t give her something to brag about in the way that she wanted to. She it wasn’t like a book she can bring to book group her three book groups. So instead of celebrating my success, she redirected the conversation as if to say, do better. Do what I want to do. Do what makes me look more impressive. So that is the underbelly of the beast. People ask me, how do you get so much done? And it’s because I don’t give myself permission to rest. Not really. Because if I rest, what happens to everything I’ve built? What happens to the people who are watching me? What happens to the version of me I’ve worked so hard to become? That’s my version of this.
Miriam Schulman: Fear not invisibility, but collapse. And if slowing down means the whole structure of my life, the business, the book, the identity might come crashing down. So I share this because I want you to know you do not have to respond the way Stephen does, the way Sandra does, or even the way I do. Just carry this fear. But maybe you might be one of these things. Maybe you might be like me, pushing, performing, smiling when your nervous system is quietly begging for rest. However, it shows up. However it shows up, it’s still the same core wound. The belief that your value is conditional, that if you’re not actively producing or impressing, you’ll disappear. And that belief? It’s not true. It’s an echo of your trauma. So how do you know if this is you? Well, are you pouring energy into licensing deals or surface level collaborations, even though your sole work is your fine art, just because it feels like it’s relevant now, you know that’s what little Rogers is teaching. So now I’m going to be an illustrator. Even though you create beautiful fine art. I have a friend, by the way, who was who dropped her fine art to pursue that. I never could figure it out before, but this story explains it. Are you building an online class? Not because you’re called to, but because you’re afraid people will forget you. And that’s what’s going to make you matter.
Miriam Schulman: Maybe you’re chasing grants or residencies you don’t even want or signing up for programs you’ll never finish, or convincing yourself you need one more certification before you’re allowed to charge more. Or maybe it’s more subtle. Maybe you keep your best work to yourself. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that now isn’t the right time. Maybe you’ve gone quiet not because you’re resting, think. But because you’re afraid that if you speak up again, no one will be there to listen. No one will be there to applaud. That’s how this fear sometimes shows up. It doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it whispers. Do more. Stay ahead. Don’t fall off. Other times, it tells you to shrink so small that no one can criticize you or worse, pity you. But no matter how it shows up, it’s not the truth of who you are. It’s the residue of who you became to stay safe. So next I prepared a grounding meditation for you. And if you like this meditation, just make sure to save it or share it. You can come back to it again and again. Go ahead and close your eyes unless you’re driving. In which case, please keep your eyes open and come back to this part later. Or you can drive and listen, but don’t close your eyes. All right, let’s take a deep breath together. Nice cleansing breath. Hold it at the top and exhale. All the trying. All the pushing.
Miriam Schulman: All the ways you thought you had to be more today. I want you to let your shoulders soften. Feel them dropping and clench your jaw. Uncurl your toes. Now bring your attention inward to that quiet space inside you. That doesn’t need to be impressive. The part of you that existed long before the likes, the lists, the launch plans, the collection drops. Picture yourself in your creative sanctuary, whatever that looks like. Maybe it’s a studio. Maybe it’s a place in nature. Maybe it’s your kitchen table. Or maybe it’s just a soft beam of light. You’re there, you’re safe, and no one needs anything from you right now. Not your website, not your inbox, not your inner critic. Here in this space, you are not behind. You are not irrelevant. You are not too much or too late or too quiet. You’re just you, breathing, longing, becoming. And let that be enough. For this moment. And if your mind tries to hustle again, if it tells you to make a plan to fix something, to add something to your to do list, to prove something, you can smile and gently say, I’m still here. I still matter. And I don’t have to perform to exist. And let that land in your body. And take one more breath. Inhale your softness. Exhale the pressure. And when you’re ready, bring yourself gently back into the room. If you’re not driving, open your eyes. Return to the world.
Miriam Schulman: Wiggle your fingers and toes. You’re not someone who has to be on. Or someone who knows their worth runs deeper than the metrics or the visibility. Because you are enough and you’re coming home to yourself. If you’ve been nodding along to this episode and part of you feels like, oh, this is me, this is what I’m caring, then maybe it’s time for you to stop white knuckling your way through it. Inside the Artist Incubator you get more than just strategy. Yes, my friend, you’ll get plenty of strategy. But you also get a space to land. A place where your fear doesn’t disqualify you, where you can show up messy and still be seen as powerful. Now you get me twice a month. You get mindset coaching twice a month. The deep mindset coaching is on topics like fear of irrelevance, creative burnout, overwhelm, pricing, all the stuff no one talks about in most business programs because you don’t need more noise. You don’t need more engagement on Instagram. You need tools. You need truth and you need someone to walk with you while you find your way back to yourself. If you want that kind of support, the doors are open, but not for long. Head on over to SchulmanArt.com/BIZ. I z. B as in boy. I as in ice cream. Z as in zebra. And I’ll see you at the same time, same place next week. Until then, stay inspired. Bye for now.
Speaker 2: Thank you for listening to the Inspiration Place podcast. Connect with us on Facebook, at facebook.com/SchulmanArt, on Instagram at @SchulmanArt, and of course, on SchulmanArt.com.
Subscribe & Review in iTunes
Are you subscribed to my podcast? If you’re not, I want to encourage you to do that today. I don’t want you to miss an episode. I’m adding a bunch of bonus episodes to the mix and if you’re not subscribed there’s a good chance you’ll miss out on those. Click here to subscribe in iTunes!
Now if you’re feeling extra loving, I would be really grateful if you left me a review over on iTunes, too. Those reviews help other people find my podcast and they’re also fun for me to go in and read. Just click here to review, select “Ratings and Reviews” and “Write a Review” and let me know what your favorite part of the podcast is. Thank you!