How To Rebuild Trust With Yourself As A Writer
You say you’ll write. Then you don’t. Here's how to stop letting yourself down on the page.
You make the promise in your head: Tonight, I’ll write.
Maybe you even light the candle, open the laptop, crack your knuckles like you’re in a movie about a writer who actually writes.
Then…nothing.
Or worse—you scroll. You “research.” You answer emails, or rearrange the icons on your desktop like they’re going to spell out the next sentence in your story for you.
And later, you feel it: the shame-tinged regret of having let yourself down. Again.
We talk a lot about trust in relationships—trusting partners, friends, colleagues. But we rarely talk about trust in the relationship that underpins all creative work: the trust we have in ourselves.
When you say you’re going to write and you don’t, there’s a big risk you’re not just skipping a task. You may also be chipping away at your creative self-trust. And over time, that erosion adds up. You start to believe your own inaction. You internalize the pattern as proof that maybe you’re just not the kind of person who follows through, or reaches their goals, or makes the dream come true.
But here’s the good news: self-trust can be rebuilt.
And like all repair work, it starts small.
Step 1: Shrink the promise
If saying “I’m going to write for two hours after dinner” keeps turning into “I’ll try again tomorrow,” then make the promise smaller. Start with 10 minutes. Start with a single sentence. (Seriously. One sentence.)
The goal isn’t to be impressive. The goal is to be consistent. If you consistently show up and meet a tiny promise, your brain starts to believe you again.
Step 2: Shift from goals to identity
This is where mindset matters. Instead of saying “I’m trying to finish my novel,” say “I’m a person who writes.” Identity is stickier than goals. A goal can be missed; an identity shapes your choices.
So if you’re a person who writes, you write. Not always a lot. Not always brilliantly. But often enough to remind yourself: This is who I am.
Step 3: Forgive the flake
Let’s be honest: you won’t always follow through.
You’ll still ghost your creative self sometimes. But rebuilding trust isn’t about being perfect. It’s about repairing gently. When you miss a writing session, don’t double down on guilt. That doesn’t make you more disciplined. It just makes you dread the next attempt.
Instead, acknowledge it (“I didn’t show up yesterday”), recommit (“I’ll show up today”), and carry on. No dramatic apology tour required.
Here’s what I’ve learned from my own messy creative routines and what I’ve seen in others: As a writer, you don’t need a productivity hack. You need a relationship repair.
And like any relationship, the work is in the showing up, the listening, the forgiving, and the trying again.
You don’t have to write perfectly.
You just have to write.
Even if it’s only a sentence.
Even if it’s only today.
Especially if it’s only today.
You got this.
I think this is such a helpful framing! I beat myself up for a long time for not writing regularly and I think that I fell into the trap of setting goals that didn't work for me. I started keeping a writing log and had a very modest goal of a half an hour a day, and over the years, I have bumped that number up a little at a time. Consistency really was the secret for me. I know that if I have unproductive days, I will have better days too if I just keep coming back!
I think we often set these big goals because they feel like a big change. Two hours every day sounds like a bold new version of ourselves... disciplined, prolific, serious. And then...missing one day feels like breaking a promise to yourself, and that shame spirals into avoidance: “I blew it. I’ll start again next week.” But, as you said, when you make your goal small. “I’ll open my doc every day.” “I’ll write one sentence.” These build momentum and reduce resistance!
Anyways, I love your approach; it always makes me rethink my approach!