Can I Be Creative in Peace?
I'm learning that just because you're good at something doesn't mean it needs a Shopify store.
I do my own nails. I get compliments on them all the time, and it always starts the same way:
“Ooh, I love your nails.”
“Thanks! I do them myself.”
It takes me hours to finish one set, and imma claim that work before someone asks where I get them done.
Nine times out of ten, the next question is:
“Can you make me a set?” or “Do you sell press-ons?”
I always laugh and say no, it’s too tedious. But sometimes, no isn’t enough. People start listing all the ways I’m missing out on money, like I’ve overlooked a golden ticket instead of making a conscious choice not to monetize something I simply enjoy.
It’s not just nails. When people find out I’m a graphic designer, the conversation shifts to the brand they want to build or the website their cousin needs. It’s not that I mind being asked, it’s that the first reaction is often a pitch (even when I’m off the clock). Why is profit the first reaction to creativity? Good old-fashioned American capitalism.
After the Civil War, America began to shift from a slavery-driven agricultural economy to one driven by private ownership, industry, and the pursuit of wealth. Capitalism aligned with the shiny ideals of “FrEeDoM and OpPorTuNiTy”, though, let’s be real, those ideals never included Black people or POC or women or queer folks or anyone who isn’t a cis white man.
The 19th century brought a boom in American capitalism through rapid industrialization. Railroads, steel, banking, and oil built massive corporate empires (the kind a lot of your favorite nepo babies are still living off of today). Capitalism became synonymous with big business and competition, while also fueling redlining, gentrification, and consumerism.
Today, capitalism is the American way. It’s baked into politics, media, and everyday life. From consumer culture to Silicon Valley tech bros and the hustle-fueled gig economy, America is a slut for capitalism.
Capitalism shapes the way we value creativity, often pushing people to see it less as a form of self-expression and more as a means to an end. In a society where worth is tied to productivity and profit, creativity can be seen as a waste if it’s not making money. If you can shoot film, design, bake, and do nails, the reaction isn’t just admiration, it’s business advice. “You should sell that” becomes a compliment and a call to action.
Take it from me, monetizing your creativity is a slippery slope. What used to be play becomes performance. Curiosity turns into content. Passion starts to feel like productivity. Some creatives thrive in that space, but for me it was a fast track to burnout and disconnection. Because once it has to sell, it stops being yours.
When I started freelancing basically full-time on top of my already full-time corporate job, I lost the joy of creating, but I was too distracted by the cash to notice. My mindset was fueled by hustle culture, influencer economics, and platforms that make it way too easy to turn hobbies into brands (looking at you, TikTok and Instagram). Under capitalism’s ever-watchful, Sauron eye, my creativity only felt valuable when it was valuable to others. It took burning out to a crisp to snap me back to reality.
People might genuinely think they’re being helpful by suggesting ways to monetize your creativity, you might even think you should monetize all of your talents, but that mindset is rooted in the larger cultural, colonial, crusty, outdated, white supremacy fueled belief that if something can make money, it should. And who wants to uphold white supremacy? Eww.
I’m not saying you should give up your side hustles (to know me, is to know I love making some extra cash), but an audit might be in order. Are you caught up in hustle culture? Ask your self this: does it still bring you joy, or is it just bringing in cash? Are you creating because you love it, or because you feel like you have to keep feeding the algorithm? Be honest. If it feels more like a job than a joyride, it might be time to recalibrate.
Your creativity deserves more than burnout disguised as ambition! I think joy is reason enough to create something. No audience, no strategy, no invoice required.
—Temi ✌︎︎
Just decided this summer’s for the soul, not the hustle — then this showed up like, “I see you.” Creating for the joy of it? Revolutionary. Apparently rest is the new revenue, and I’m fully booked.
oof, yes this is exactly how I've been feeeling, a mix between I just want to lay my ass down but also anxious about missing potential chas in this economy 😫