Why how to stop feeling alone as an artist is not just emotional (it’s practical)

When we’re on our own, a few predictable things happen:

You second-guess every price and every offer. You talk yourself out of opportunities because there’s no one saying, “Go on, try it.” You bounce between ideas because nobody’s helping you stick with one path long enough to see results. On the outside, it looks like lack of discipline. In reality, it’s lack of support.  And here’s the key: isolation doesn’t just affect your mood. It affects your decisions. It affects how consistently you create. It affects whether you follow up on enquiries. It affects whether you show your work at all.

So if you’re researching how to stop feeling alone as an artist, this is your permission slip to stop treating support as a “nice extra” and start treating it as part of your business plan.

The simple support circle for how to stop feeling alone as an artist

Think of this as your “second-act art support circle”. It has three roles, plus a container:

1. a peer

2. a guide

3. a cheerleader/buyer

4. a small container (how you keep in touch)

Let’s break them down in a way you can actually act on.

1) The Peer: someone walking alongside you

A peer is another artist close enough to your stage that you truly understand each other. Not a celebrity mentor. Not someone miles ahead. Just another human taking their art seriously, trying to earn from it, and juggling real-life responsibilities.

A good peer helps because:

• you feel less strange for wanting your art to pay you

• you can swap “this is working / this isn’t” in real time

• you have someone who understands why sending that one email or finishing that one piece was a big deal this week

Tiny action (this week): write down three artists you already know or follow who feel like potential peers. Then message one person something simple and low-pressure:
“Hey, I’m taking my art more seriously these days and I’m looking for another artist to share the ups and downs with. Would you be open to a very low-key check-in now and then?”

That message is a small door. You’re not asking for a lifelong friendship. You’re building the first brick in the wall of how to stop feeling alone as an artist.

2) The Guide: someone a few steps ahead (so you stop reinventing everything)

A guide is someone a few steps ahead on the path you care about. They might be a teacher you’ve learned from, a local artist selling in the way you want to, or someone online whose approach you respect. The point is not to find a perfect guru. The point is to stop trying to reinvent absolutely everything alone.

A guide helps you:

• see what’s realistic at your stage

• avoid obvious pitfalls

• borrow systems that already work instead of starting from a blank page.

This can be free (study their content properly), light-touch (workshops, one thoughtful question), or deeper (a short programme or 1-to-1 support when the time is right).

Tiny action: pick one guide for this season and decide one next step:

• “I’m going to watch their series on pricing and actually do the exercises.”

• “I’m going to email and ask if they offer short mentoring.”

• “I’m going to save up for one good course instead of buying five random classes.”

That decision tells your brain: I’m supported. I’m learning. I’m not guessing.

3) The Cheerleader/Buyer: the role most artists forget to name

This role is vital and often invisible. Your cheerleader/buyer is someone who already lights up when they see your work, shares it, asks “Are you selling yet?”, and sometimes becomes a repeat buyer or commissioner.

When you include them intentionally:

• you remember your art already has real value in the world

• it feels less scary to share new work

• you create a small group of people genuinely delighted when you succeed

Tiny action: write down three names of people who’ve already shown love for your work. Choose one and send a warm update (no sales pitch):
“I’ve been quietly building my art business behind the scenes. I just wanted to share a piece I finished recently, because you’ve always been so supportive.”

This is a surprisingly powerful step in how to stop feeling alone as an artist, because it replaces “I’m bothering people” with “I’m letting supportive people in.”

4) The Container: the simple rhythm that makes this real

A container is simply how you keep in touch. It might be a monthly Zoom, a WhatsApp thread, a tiny accountability group, or a relaxed café meet-up. The magic isn’t in a fancy structure. The magic is in agreeing to show up regularly and talk honestly about how your art and income are going.

Try this format:
One win, one wobble, one focus for next month.

That’s it. Light enough to sustain, strong enough to change your momentum.

A 30-day experiment for how to stop feeling alone as an artist

If you want a practical plan, here’s a simple 30-day support circle experiment:

Week 1: map what you already have
Draw three columns: peers, guides, cheerleaders/buyers. Add any names you can think of, even if you’re not in touch right now. Circle the biggest gap.

Week 2: one message per role
Message one potential peer. Take one step toward your guide (study properly, email a question, explore a paid option). Send one warm update to a cheerleader/buyer.

Week 3: try a small container
Invite one or two peers to a low-pressure 30–45 minute call or meet-up using the “win/wobble/focus” format. Notice how you feel afterward: more alone, or less? more motivated, or less?

Week 4: review and refine
Ask: which connections felt genuinely supportive? where did you feel more hopeful or focused? what rhythm would you like to keep for the next three months? Choose one ongoing pattern, like “monthly call with one peer + monthly email update to my cheerleaders.”

If 30 days feels fast, stretch it over 6–8 weeks. The point is not to collect people. The point is to stop pretending you have to do this entirely alone.

If you’re in the middle of searching for how to stop feeling alone as an artist, start small: one peer, one guide, three cheerleaders, one monthly check-in. Tiny circle. Real humans. Real momentum.