I Bought the Course… So Why Do I Still Feel Like a Failure?
10 quiet thoughts that keep creative women stuck—and what they actually mean.
Dear friend,
Let’s be real: buying an online course is often a beautiful, hopeful act.
It means you still believe in your art.
But when you don’t start—or drift halfway through—it can feel like failure. And that pain often hides in silence.
You are not alone.
You are not behind.
And you are not broken.
I’ve gathered stories, comments, and reflections from creative women all over, and the same quiet thoughts keep showing up. Here are 10 of the most common thoughts that surface when we don’t finish what we started—and the tender feelings underneath them.
1. "Maybe this course will finally unlock the version of me I want to be."
You buy it with a flutter in your chest, believing this is the one. That hope? It matters.
How this makes us feel: Hopeful, excited, eager—then quietly disappointed when momentum fades.
What we do (or don’t do):
Starts with energy, then stops after a few lessons
Feels embarrassed we believed this one would be “different”
Avoids opening the course again to avoid that sting
2. "If I don’t finish, it means I’ve failed—again."
Every unopened lesson feels like a broken promise. But it’s not. It’s just life.
How this makes us feel: Ashamed, guilty, like we have let ourselves down.
What we do (or don’t do):
Avoids even looking at the course platform
Stops trying completely
Tells ourselves we are “bad at follow-through”
3. "I shouldn’t start unless I know I can do it all, perfectly."
Perfectionism whispers: Don’t begin unless you’ll get it right. So we wait.
How this makes us feel: Paralyzed, anxious, stuck in fear of messing up.
What we do (or don’t do):
Never starts the course at all
Stares at a blank page or canvas and walks away
Researches more instead of creating
4. "Other people seem to be able to make this work. What’s wrong with me?"
We scroll and compare. The truth is—we’re all stumbling somewhere.
How this makes us feel: Inadequate, isolated, like she’s falling behind.
What we do (or don’t do):
Stops posting or sharing our art
Withdraws from communities
Feels like we are not “good enough” to be in the room
5. "Maybe I’m not really an artist after all."
When energy fades, we question whether we ever were.
How this makes us feel: Empty, self-doubting, like an imposter.
What we do (or don’t do):
Labels ourselves a hobbyist instead of an artist
Avoids talking about art with others
Feels like we have to earn the right to create
6. "I don’t deserve to take this time for myself."
The laundry, the family, the job—always first. But your art matters too.
How this makes us feel: Guilty, selfish, like our needs come last.
What we do (or don’t do):
Puts off creative time indefinitely
Lets others’ needs take over our schedule
Feels resentment but pushes it down
7. "I was more creative before—what happened to me?"
You miss that past version of you when it flowed.
How this makes us feel: Mourning, confused, unsure how to return.
What we do (or don’t do):
Looks at old work and feels defeated
Avoids starting new pieces
Believes our best work is behind us
8. "I need to learn more before I can make anything worthwhile."
Endless learning becomes a stall tactic dressed up as preparation.
How this makes us feel: Unready, insecure, like we’re never quite enough.
What we do (or don’t do):
Buys more courses instead of using the ones we already have
Waits to “get better” before making anything
Doesn’t trust our instincts or creative voice
9. "I bought the course… so why do I still feel stuck?"
Buying gave hope, but clarity doesn’t come from a receipt.
How this makes us feel: Frustrated, discouraged, questioning her motivation.
What we do (or don’t do):
Feels overwhelmed by all the choices
Avoids the course altogether
Blames ourself instead of adjusting expectations
10. "I have everything I need—and I’m still not doing it. What’s wrong with me?"
This one cuts deep. But the answer isn’t blame—it’s compassion.
How this makes us feel: Ashamed, defeated, deeply discouraged.
What we do (or don’t do):
Numbs out with TV, scrolling, or busyness
Avoids the studio altogether
Feels stuck in a cycle of buying and not creating
So now what?
If you’ve ever thought or felt even one of these… you’re not failing. You’re awakening.
Your art doesn’t need more discipline.
It needs more kindness.
More space.
More permission to just begin.
P.S. Which of these thoughts do you know by heart? Let me know in the comments or reply—I’d love to walk with you through them.
You’re not behind.
You’re already on your way home.
With love,
Lynn
Finally we are in like company. We took on responsibilities but never thought to be responsible for ourselves as we are. We've had moments of making art then someone thinking they are encouraging says, "Have you ever thought of selling your art?" This shuts me down, I never think of selling my art, it's my stories, my life disconnected all over the place, but still my story. I'm writing my own books for me to read.