Tag: neurodivergent creators

  • Marketing My Own Work

    Marketing My Own Work

    Daily writing prompt
    Something on your “to-do list” that never gets done.

    There is always one task on my to-do list that survives every day intact. It migrates from planner to planner, untouched but never forgotten. It is not writing, creating, or even finishing the work itself. Marketing is a monster that haunts me. Photographing products. Writing sales captions. Uploading physical items to my digital storefronts. Prompting people to look, buy, or choose my work.

    For a creative business built on handmade objects, poetry, and intention, this resistance is not accidental. It is structural. It lives at the intersection of vulnerability, capitalism, and self-worth. This post is an honest look at why marketing is the task that never gets done. And why that does not mean failure.


    The Work I Can Do vs the Work That Stops Me

    I can make things.

    I can hike for hours to find stones, clean them, shape them, and polish them. Then I can turn them into objects meant to be held.

    I can write fifty poems in less days. I can design books, zines, rituals, and tools for reflection.

    But when it is time to:
    • post photos, videos, or content

    • adjust pitches

    • write product descriptions

    • decide pricing

    • post sale content

    • upload or update listings

    My brain locks.

    This is not because I do not believe in the work. It is because marketing requires a different kind of exposure. Creation asks me to speak. Marketing asks me to persuade.


    Why Marketing Feels So Much Harder for Creatives

    Marketing your own work collapses the distance between who you are and what you are selling. There is no buffer. No corporate logo to hide behind. No separate sales department. It is just you, asking strangers to exchange money for something that came from your hands, your time, your inner world.

    For many creatives, especially indie makers and minority voices, this triggers several pressures at once:

    • Fear of being seen as self-promotional instead of sincere

    • Fear of pricing work honestly and being judged

    • Fear of rejection that feels personal, not professional

    • Exhaustion from learning platforms designed for volume, not care

    The system rewards loudness and speed. Handmade work is slow. Poetry is quiet. Marketing does not respect that by default.


    The Photography Problem No One Talks About

    Photographing physical items sounds simple until you do it.

    Light matters. Backgrounds matter. Consistency matters. Algorithms reward polish. Handmade objects resist uniformity. Every stone is different. Every piece has its own shape, reflection, and mood.

    By the time the camera comes out, I have already done the hardest part, the making. The photography feels like a second unpaid job layered on top of the first. When the images are not perfect, my brain whispers that the work itself is not enough.

    That whisper is a lie, but it is loud.


    Uploading Is Emotional Labor

    Uploading a product is not just clicking buttons.

    It is choosing categories that do not quite fit.

    It is compressing meaning into bullet points.

    It is deciding how much your time is worth in a field that consistently undervalues creative labor.

    Each listing becomes a small act of self-advocacy. Doing that repeatedly, especially while managing chronic stress, neurodivergence, or limited energy, turns a simple task into an emotional drain.


    This Is Not Procrastination, It Is Friction

    Calling this procrastination misses the truth.

    The task does not get done because it contains too many invisible costs. Emotional exposure. Decision fatigue. Platform literacy. Self-doubt. Capitalist pressure wrapped in friendly UX.

    When the cost outweighs the available energy, the task stays on the list.

    And I do eventually get the background noise and tasks completed. Just not at the rate that I wish to or, honestly, that I need to.


    Reframing the Unfinished Task

    The problem is not that I am bad at marketing.

    The problem is that marketing was never designed for people who build slowly, feel deeply, and create with intention.

    Instead of forcing productivity shame, I am learning to:
    • batch marketing when energy allows
    • reuse content across platforms
    • accept imperfect photos
    • write descriptions like letters, not ads
    • let the store grow at a human pace

    Progress does not have to look aggressive to be real.

    The to-do list item that never gets done is not a personal failure. It is a signal. It points to where systems clash with values, where creativity meets commerce without a translator.

    I am still making the work. I am still building the archive. I am still here.

    Marketing will happen, slowly, imperfectly, in ways that respect my capacity. And that is enough to keep going.


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