The worst that can happen...
Ever heard this inner-voice?
You finish a song. You're excited for a few days. Then something starts to whisper:
“It's cringe”
“Too weird”
“Too normal”
“Too lo-fi”
“Too polished”
“Too vulnerable”
“Too me"
Yeah, I know that lowlight reel too. I could probably score it with a hundred half-finished tracks stuck in hard-drive purgatory. Because — confession time — I’m still afraid to put my music out there too. Every single. Every album. Every livestream. Every show.
And I’ve been at this for over 20 years.
I know I'm not alone. I was talking with a friend the other night who uploaded an album for distribution 8 years ago, and then just... never pressed the finalize button to release it.
All those songs are still there in that dashboard, waiting.
Waiting for the fear to end.
But here’s the truth: For some of us, the fear never really leaves. We can put on a confident face, but doubt is a deep caldera.
Does that fear ease with age? Maybe a bit. Or maybe we just trade one set of anxieties for another. Then you learn to move through those too — or else stay frozen forever.
And we can't have that, can we?!
So when it comes to moving through my own fear, there's a little mental game I like to play.
I hope it helps you too. It's simple.
I ask myself:
What’s the absolute worst that could happen if I release this?
Someone hates it.
I embarrass myself.
A critic rolls their eyes.
A few people unfollow me.
(I confirm my deepest suspicion — that I’m a try-hard, a fraud, a fool.)
Okay… and then what?
I survive. I make more music. My actual fans still listen to the songs they already love. And eventually, I try again.
Every legend has a few stinkers in their catalog, right? Bowie. Miles. Joni. Dylan. Aretha. Think about it: If they’re allowed to fail, then you are too.
And that’s the WORST-case scenario: a bruised ego, a missed opportunity. In the grand scheme of things? Pretty low-stakes.
See! Even the worst outcome is bearable. But don't let yourself linger there too long.
Because here’s what's more likely:
Someone out there needs your song.
It lands in their life at just the right time.
It says something they couldn’t say themselves.
It becomes theirs.
That's what art does! And if it reaches even one person that deeply… who’s to say it couldn’t reach two? Or ten? Or ten thousand?
Your fear might mean there's something real in the music. Fear means you care. Caring means the work matters. And work that matters is worth the risk.
So press go. Share the track. Say the thing.
Art isn’t safe. It’s generous. And someone out there is waiting for what only YOU can create.
Keep making noise,
