Why Relying on Others Will Keep You Stuck
A quiet trap that many of creatives fall into without realizing it.
The In-Between Season
August is a peculiar month for me.
Summer is still present. But I place it in the rearview mirror, while autumn slowly appears on the horizon— still unseen but gently foreshadowing its arrival.
I’m easing out of vacation mode. Easing out of long days where night and day blend. Naturally, my mind turns toward the months ahead. In the middle of August, the theatres open their doors for us theatre workers. And and I prepare to start rehearsals. I also envision other work related things..
There’s one intention I’ve felt strongly about:
Not letting unfinished work float into the next year.
So I made a list of what I planned to complete in 2025:
A song called “Home”
A novel titled “The Actor”
A short film script
All of them are deeply personal. They don’t belong to a production company or a client. They’re mine.
When the Work Is Yours Alone
The novel is loosely based on the time in my life when I lost my father. I could never co-write this story. It has to be written from inside. From my personal experience.
The song, Home, is born from my own process—finding a sense of grounding within myself, in a time when my surroundings haven’t offered much stability.
The short film script is still vague. I can see the shape behind the mist that surrounds all creative ideas at the start. Too early to describe. Too delicate to be exposed to outside input without losing its core.
In essence, all of the work is mine to do.
And I know that. No one else can hold my hand through this part of the process—not up close, anyway.
Yet, I’ve found myself waiting.
The Illusion of External Validation
A few weeks ago, I booked a meeting with a fellow actor to talk about the short film idea.
Why?
Because it feels better—safer—when someone else validates your ideas. When someone shows interest or wants to collaborate, it makes the work feel more real. When it only exists on my computer or in my head, it feels illusional.
But here’s the catch:
Validation is not the same as collaboration.
On one level, I know I wasn’t looking for collaboration when I booked that meeting. Still, I somehow convinced myself I would gain momentum by doing so.
But that’s a lie..
Artists Are Wired for Co-Creation
As actors, we’re conditioned to rely on others. Theatre and film are collective art forms. Unlike painters or novelists, we rarely get to work in solitude. We need teams, scripts, directors, stages, and audiences.
But the tendency to rely on others isn’t unique to actors.
Anyone with a dream—a creative vision, a personal project—can fall into this pattern.
We think that inviting other people will make the process more fun. And it can. But it comes with a very high price:
That safety of companionship is costing you your momentum and integrity.
Nobody Cares
This might sound harsh, but it’s also freeing:
Nobody will care about your dream as much as you do. Because they dont have your idea.
Simple as that.
If they do get involved, its because they want to ad something. Regardless of what that might be. Adding something is the same as changing the shape or form in some way. Even if it might look like an improvement on a surface level.
You are trading ownership for companionship.
Owning your work
As an actor, I’ve been part of plays that underperformed. The reviews were bad. The ticket sales were worse. And yet, I didn’t feel personally attacked—because as actors, we can soak up the praise when a production succeeds, and blame the director or script when it doesn’t.
This is why acting can look so pretty and glamorous to some people. They assume acting, means they get to only do the fun stuff. Like, coming along for the ride, when the idea is almost finished. So they can play and receive applause.
And while that might be true to some extent.
There’s one thing, you only attain by making your own art and claiming ownership:
Deep connection.
When it’s your idea, your story, your song— your sharing a piece of your heart with the world. Regardless of the outcome. You are communicating and connecting with the world around you. And that’s deeply fulfilling.
Once your work of art arrives safely to shore. And connects with other people. That experience will fill every cell of your body.
But in order to get there. Where first have to be like parents to our works of art.
Ideas Are Like Newborns
Every piece of creative work goes through fragile stages.
Walt Disney knew this. In his offices, there was a specific room where new ideas were allowed to grow without outside interference. Producers weren’t allowed in—not until the idea had developed past its infant stage.
You have to protect your early ideas the same way.
Treat them like newborns.
Don’t drag them out into the cold before they’re strong enough to stand.
The Value of Solitude
Making art is, at least in part, a lonely process. And that’s not a flaw—it’s a necessity.
It’s your soul expressing itself.
It’s the quiet merging of your life experience with imagination.
It’s witnessing something that’s never existed before coming into form—through you.
That’s a sacred process.
It’s not about your friends.
Not about external validation or money.
Not about your collaborator.
It’s about you.
Your path.
Your art.
Your fire to light.
The Bottom Line
If you feel stuck, ask yourself gently:
Am I waiting for someone else to move first?
It’s okay if the answer is yes. Just don’t stay there.
The longer you wait, the more powerless you feel.
The more you act, the more magnetic you become.
Move. Own your ideas.