You Don’t Need Permission to Call Yourself an Artist

There’s a moment every creator wrestle with, whether they admit it out loud or not:

“Am I really an artist?”

We hesitate before calling ourselves that word—as if someone else needs to grant us access.

As if we need a degree, a following, or a paycheck to validate our creative identity.

But here’s the truth:

You don’t need anyone’s permission to call yourself an artist.

If you create, express, explore, feel, and make meaning—you already are one.

🧠 Where the Doubt Comes From

Many of us grew up with a narrow definition of what it means to be an “artist.”

We were taught that artists are:

Published.

Famous.

Technically skilled.

Professionally trained.

Recognized by others.

So, if you’ve ever:

Written poems in secret.

Sketched in the margins.

Made music at midnight.

Built something with your hands and your heart…

…you might’ve still felt like it “didn’t count.”

That belief—that your art isn’t real until it’s seen—is not only false, it’s harmful.

Because art is not about being approved of.

It’s about being authentic.

✍️ The Moment I Stopped Waiting for a Title

There was a time I didn’t dare call myself an artist.

I used words like “trying,” “dabbling,” or “just for fun.”

I waited for someone else to say it first.

For proof. Praise. A platform.

But one day, after pouring hours into something I loved—

writing words that felt like truth,

losing track of time in the flow of it—

I realized:

If this isn’t art… what is?

No one came to knight me.

No one gave me a certificate.

No one had to.

Because I already was.

🛑 Stop Asking to Belong

Creativity isn’t a club you apply to.

It’s a language you’re fluent in—whether or not you’ve been published, featured, or followed.

You don’t have to earn the right to express yourself.

You don’t have to monetize your passion to justify it.

You don’t have to be productive to be valid.

You’re allowed to create just because it moves you.

Just because it’s how you breathe.

Just because it’s who you are.

That is enough.

🎭 There Are No Rules to This

You can be:

A photographer who never shows your photos.

A dancer who’s never stepped on stage.

A writer with twenty unfinished drafts.

A painter who gives your work away for free.

You can be messy.

You can be inconsistent.

You can be self-taught.

You can change mediums, styles, and moods a hundred times.

And you’re still an artist.

Because art isn’t a product.

It’s a process.

And if you’re in it—you’re it.

🎡 The Myth of “Real Artists”

Let’s dismantle a few myths:

Myth #1: Real artists get paid.

→ Truth: Art existed long before money touched it. Your creativity doesn’t need a price tag.

Myth #2: Real artists have an audience.

→ Truth: Some of the greatest artists in history were only appreciated after death. Create now anyway.

Myth #3: Real artists are always inspired.

→ Truth: No one is. Art takes discipline and heart, not just mood.

Myth #4: Real artists never doubt themselves.

→ Truth: Most do. Regularly. Doubt is often a sign you care deeply.

🌱 When You Own It, Everything Changes

Something shifts when you stop waiting and start claiming:

You stop shrinking your passion for others’ comfort.

You stop brushing off your work like it doesn’t matter.

You start creating from a place of ownership—not fear.

You begin to respect your creative space.

You trust your voice more.

You value what flows out of you—not because others say it’s “good,” but because it’s true.

🧡 To the Artist Who Doesn’t Feel Like One (Yet)

If no one’s told you:

Your journal matters.

Your half-finished songs matter.

Your daydreams, your stories, your vision boards—they all matter.

Your creative identity doesn’t need to be explained or justified.

You are not aspiring.

You are not “someday.”

You. Are. An. Artist.

Right now.

As you are.

No gatekeeper required.

💌 Final Words for the Unofficial Creators

So, here’s your permission slip—if you needed one:

You are allowed to call yourself an artist.

Loudly. Proudly. Quietly. Tenderly.

However, you choose.

The art you make—seen or unseen—is a reflection of your soul.

It is valid. It is enough. It is real.

So go on:

Claim your title.

Take up that space.

Create your way.

You don’t need a platform.

You don’t need applause.

You don’t need permission.

You just need to believe that your art is already inside you—waiting to be heard.