It started with the towel on the floor.

My 10-year-old was rude, talking back, and leaving chores undone. My wife was overscheduled and unavailable. And I was losing it.

“It’s them,” I thought. “They’re the problem.”

But 49 minutes into a 50-minute therapy session, it hit me: It’s not them. It’s me.

Why wasn’t I taking myself for a walk, writing, or doing yoga? Why was I turning away from my art—the thing that grounds me, lights me up, and makes me feel like me? And why, when I disconnected from myself, did everyone else suddenly seem like the problem?

Turns out, I’m not alone. Experts like Brené Brown and Elizabeth Gilbert have been talking about this for years. When life feels overwhelming, we often dodge the one thing that could help: ourselves.

Creativity requires vulnerability, and that can be terrifying. Brené Brown says:

• “Unused creativity is not benign. It metastasizes. It turns into grief, rage, judgment, sorrow, shame.”

When we push down our creative instincts, that energy doesn’t just disappear—it spills out as irritability or anger.

Elizabeth Gilbert warns us about perfectionism:

• “Perfectionism stops people from completing their work, yes—but even worse, it often stops people from beginning their work.”

We’re afraid to fail, so we don’t even start.

We’ve been conditioned to see creativity as frivolous. But research shows that engaging in creative activities leads to some of the most fulfilling experiences of our lives.

Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, says shame is one of the biggest blocks to creativity. When we feel unworthy, we question whether we even deserve to take time for ourselves—or to express ourselves authentically.

As I replayed the morning in therapy, I realized the problem wasn’t my kid or my wife. It was that I hadn’t been showing up for myself.

I saw the hurt beneath my kid’s anger—the confusion of navigating a world where their identity isn’t always welcomed. I saw my own hurt too, masked as frustration. What I really needed wasn’t for others to change; it was for me to return to myself.

When we avoid ourselves, we’re avoiding the things that make us whole. And that disconnection spills into everything—our relationships, our work, our sense of purpose.

But here’s what Brené, Liz, and Julia want us to know: showing up for ourselves isn’t indulgent. It’s essential.

If you’ve been feeling disconnected, here are a few ways to return to yourself:

• Pause and Reflect: When anger or irritation bubbles up, pause. Ask yourself: What am I avoiding? What do I need right now?

• Take One Small Step: Write one sentence. Draw one line. Take one photo. The act of showing up is what matters.

• Reframe Creativity as Self-Care: Creativity isn’t optional—it’s part of self-care. When you make time for art, you’re nurturing yourself.

• Stay Curious: Try an artist date: a solo adventure to reignite your curiosity. Visit a museum, take a walk, or explore a new hobby.

The towel on the floor, the rude words from my kid, the distance I felt from my wife—they weren’t the real problems. The real problem was that I wasn’t taking care of me.

But here’s the magic: when we show up for ourselves, we show up better for everyone else.

So today, I’m asking: What are you avoiding? And what would it look like to return to yourself?

Let’s talk about it—because the mess is where the magic lives.