The delicate nature of creativity. Why I pulled out of a brand deal.

My dirty little secret

It started innocently enough.

From a place of childlike curiosity.

A YouTube channel.

I started making videos because I was unfulfilled at work.

I had spent a few years climbing the management ranks only to find out that it wasn’t what I had expected.

I craved a creative outlet and at the time there were many creators who I watched on a regular basis and I thought maybe I could do that too?

And so one day I just posted a video.

I didn’t tell anyone for the first 3 months.

It was my dirty little secret.

The videos were absolutely terrible but after I got over the initial cringe of seeing myself (that is so weird by the way, I still find it strange) I started to get a deep sense of satisfaction from it.

Fast forward almost three years later and I have a regular trickle of emails from brands who want to sponsor my videos.

I made it, right?

Well no, not really.

The last couple of weeks have not been great for me.

They have been a mixture of elated excitement and stressed anxiety.

However I have had, once again, a powerful lesson reinforced which I would like to share with you.

“Guard you creativity with fierce resolve”

Internal motivation, joy and a sense of satisfaction in the thing itself is what you must optimise for.

Not retention, not engagement, not money not resonance with the audience but resonance with yourself.

If you’ve read any of my previous letter or notes it might seem like I’m constantly banging on about this but it is a fundamental point that every aspiring creator must understand.

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Back in December I had a lot of brands reaching out to me.

I was initially excited because they were brands that I knew.

I had seen other creators promoting them.

Big creators. People with 100s of thousands of subscribers and so I thought this is a no brainer. It must be legit.

One brand in particular was very persistent and so I entered into talks with them.

If you haven’t done a brand deal before they vary a lot.

I have had a few experiences where they just let me do what I want and approve everything, no questions asked.

There are others who are quite vague in their directions but controlling in my output and keep asking for corrections and amendments.

I won’t go into all the details but it was a frustrating experience.

I did not feel good from the start and certain things came up which made me question the integrity of this brand.

Just because a lot of big creators endorse a brand does not mean it is trustworthy.

I ended up cancelling the partnership and telling them that it wasn’t going to work out.

It was annoying and initially I felt down about the whole thing.

It felt like I had wasted a lot of time and energy for nothing.

But as I sat there replaying the whole experience in my mind I knew this was the right decision.

There were certain aspects of the communication that just felt off from the very start.

It’s not always the case but often those feeling of trepidation are warning signs that we should listen to.

Never marry your sense of self worth to outcomes

Here’s the thing:

I don’t need money from brand deals. I have a job.

If you haven’t already you should read this article here: Why your 9-5 is your best asset.

I also do not see this as a privilege. It is a conscious decision that I made.

I do brand deals now and then to test my market value. To see what’s required, the type of communication that is necessary and also how the audience reacts.

• Do I get negative comments?

• Do people click off during the ad read?

• How can I integrate it in a more natural way?

On the back end there is also the whole logistics of actually getting paid - writing invoices, filing taxes and so on.

Very often the money doesn’t come until two months after posting the video so that’s something else to keep in mind.

The thing is, whether you are doing brand deals, affiliate partnerships or selling your own products monetisation is similar to likes comments and engagement except it is 10 times more addictive.

At first, the financial reward feels like an exhilarating affirmation.

It’s so validating. It’s like OMG someone is actually paying me for my words, this is incredible. I can’t wait to quit my job and do this full time.

As soon as you enter this mindset the stakes increase and the dynamic begins to shift.

Writing or creating videos, which had once been an act of exploration, starts to feel like a transaction.

Deadlines loom like thunderclouds, and the pressure to please others tightens its grip around your imagination and creativity.

Something insidious begins to happen, something so subtle that you don’t notice it at first.

The stories you tell, the ideas you explore, start to shift.

You find yourself filtering your thoughts through an invisible lens, asking not, “What do I want to say?” but “What will they want to hear?”

It’s not just the actual content that changes it’s your internal motivation.

You are no longer creating from a place of curiosity and joy. Instead, you are driven by a need for approval, for financial security, for external validation.

This is such a common occurrence in the creator economy that I sometimes think there’s no way to avoid it.

Maybe everyone just has to experience it for themselves…

However there are a few questions you can ask yourself to stay on track.

"Am I creating to express something meaningful or merely to meet expectations?"

Being aware of this shift can help you recalibrate before it becomes a pattern.

And just to be clear this is can happen if you have 100 or 100,000 subscribers.

It is a constant balancing act which is important to get right from the start.

It’s not sudden. It’s a gradual shift

This internal shift—from intrinsic to extrinsic motivation—is perhaps the most insidious consequence of monetising creativity.

It’s not just about the work; it’s about who you become as a creator.

When your focus is on the market, your creativity begins to serve a master outside yourself.

The joy of exploration gives way to the pragmatism of production.

Even the language of creativity changes.

Ideas are no longer “discovered” or “unfolded”—they are “produced,” “pitched,” and “sold.”

Yet, the human spirit resists being commodified.

This is often why you see successful YouTubers create second channels.

The pressure of creating something that will be well received is so great they do not dare deviate from what has worked in the past on their main channel.

They then feel constricted, hemmed in or trapped and so just stop posting to that channel. (e.g Tomas Frank, Matt D’avella, Nathaniel Drew)

It is also a trend I have noticed on substack. People asking if they should create a second newsletter where they can just share their thoughts more freely.

If you are someone who needs that creative outlet, who has ideas which emerge, unbidden and urgent, demanding to be expressed, this is something which should be fiercely guarded and protected.

It is in those moments, when you’re not thinking of the audience or the market that the magic truly happens.

When you write for the sheer necessity of it, for the pleasure of bringing something into existence. These moments are profound.

They are a recurring reminder that creativity, at its core, is not about output but about connection—not just with others but with yourself.

Why I pulled out in a nutshell

This is what I learned from this experience and ultimately why I pulled out of this brand deal:

1. Trust is built painstakingly over years of hard work. It can be broken in an instant. Trust your instincts. If it feels “off” it probably is and it’s not worth the risk.

2. If I can’t do it on my own terms at my own pace I’m not doing it at all.

3. Fear is a natural companion to creation, but when it begins to dictate your decisions, it’s time to step back.

4. Remember that your most personal work often resonates the deepest, even if it’s not widely applauded.

5. Make time for projects that are purely for you. This keeps the essence of your creativity alive and allows you to reconnect with why you create in the first place.

I’ve come to understand that creativity, when monetized, must be approached with care.

It’s a delicate balancing act, one that requires constant vigilance and self-awareness.

The key, I think, is to preserve spaces of pure creativity—to allow yourself the freedom to create without purpose, without expectation, without an audience.

For me, this means journaling, or writing fragments of stories that will never be published.

It means reconnecting with the part of myself that creates not to be seen but to see.

Ultimately, I’ve learned to ask myself a critical question:

“Why am I making this?”

If the answer is tied to metrics or money alone, I pause. Because while creativity can be a livelihood, it must also remain, at least in part, an act of love.

When we lose that love, we risk losing not just our work but ourselves. And no pay check is worth that.

As you embark on monetising your craft, remember that the truest measure of success is not external applause but internal fulfilment.

If you’re lost keep asking yourself if your work still feels like an act of love.

Thank you for reading.

If this resonated with you I would love it if you shared it with someone who might need it.

I appreciate you.