I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard someone say, “Oh, I’m not creative.”
It usually comes with a little shrug, or a laugh that brushes it off like it’s just a fact—not something worth questioning.
But every time I hear those words, something inside me pushes back. Not in a loud or confrontational way, but with a quiet certainty:
“That’s just not true.”
The truth is, I used to think the same way.
As a younger person, I didn’t always see myself as creative. I thought creativity belonged to people who painted or danced or wrote novels. I was curious and loved to learn, but I didn’t think that counted. It wasn’t until I started asking myself what truly gave me joy—what made me feel most alive—that I began to see creativity differently.
It wasn’t about being “good” at something. It wasn’t even about making things for others to see. It was about how I approached the world. How I solved problems, played with ideas, and got lost in small, personal projects that made me feel more like myself.
That’s when I realized: creativity is more of a mindset than an activity.
It shows up in everyday choices, quiet ideas, and the small ways we shape the world around us.
What Creativity Really Is
Somewhere along the way, we started treating creativity like it had to come with a title. “Artist.” “Writer.” “Designer.”
But creativity doesn’t need a label. It doesn’t need to be framed or applauded. And it certainly doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s version of it.
To me, creativity begins with curiosity.
It’s that spark that makes you wonder, “What if I tried this?”
It’s the willingness to explore something new—whether it’s building your own website, experimenting with a recipe, or learning a new handcraft technique just because it looks fun.
I’ve always found joy in that process of figuring things out. Not because I need to master it, but because I love the experience of learning something unfamiliar and making it my own.
I see that same kind of creativity everywhere—in people who rearrange their furniture just to see how it feels, in those who turn simple meals into small acts of expression, in anyone who finds satisfaction in tinkering, adjusting, or exploring.
Creativity isn’t just about making something beautiful or original.
It’s about being open to the process.
It’s about trying, learning, and letting yourself enjoy the mess along the way.
Where the Belief Gets Lost
So if creativity is really this broad and accessible, why do so many people stop believing they have it?
I think it starts early.
Maybe it was a teacher who said your drawing wasn’t realistic enough. Or a class where your creative writing got a lower grade because it didn’t follow the “rules.” Maybe it was just growing up in a world that praised productivity over play.
For me, it started with music.
As a child, I played the violin and the flute. I loved it—not just the music itself, but the feeling of being immersed in something expressive and alive. But after being told I wasn’t good enough to be part of the orchestra, I stopped. Not because I didn’t enjoy playing, but because someone else had decided it wasn’t good enough.
And for a little while, my creativity slumbered.
But it didn’t disappear. It just found a new direction.
Soon after, I found the theater—and for many years, that became my outlet. Stepping into different characters, learning scripts, building a scene together with others—it all reminded me that creativity isn’t a single path. It’s a constant. It just changes form.
Somewhere along the way, many of us start believing creativity only counts if someone else approves of it—if it’s shared, liked, followed, or monetized. And if we’re not “good” at it right away, we assume we must not be creative at all.
But I think that’s where we lose something important—not just the act of creating, but the connection to how we think, explore, and grow.
Creativity doesn’t disappear.
It just goes quiet when we stop giving it room to breathe.
My Own Relationship with Creativity
Looking back, I can see that creativity has always been part of who I am—even during the times when I didn’t call it that.
There were seasons in life where I didn’t have the time or energy to pursue anything “creative” in the traditional sense. But even then, I found myself making things work in unexpected ways—solving problems, trying new tools, learning as I went.
Teaching, in many ways, was one of the most creative chapters of my life—even if I didn’t always recognize it that way at the time.
One of my favorite examples comes from my years teaching in Sweden. I had a mixed-age class of 4th, 5th, and 6th graders, and I wanted to make our Swedish language lessons more engaging and meaningful. So instead of teaching grammar, spelling, and writing as isolated skills, we decided to explore it all through the lens of literary genres.
We started with fairy tales.
We read them, of course—but we also dissected them. We asked: What makes a story a fairy tale? We compared classic versions with more modern ones and noticed how language had changed over time. Then, of course, we wrote our own.
Everything—reading comprehension, spelling, grammar, storytelling—was tied into this creative process. The students worked in small groups, and it didn’t take long before their creativity became the driving force. They inspired each other, played with ideas, and took real ownership of their language. They didn’t just learn about fairy tales—they became fairy tale authors themselves.
And we didn’t stop there.
We explored adventure stories, historical biographies, and even self-biographies. With each new genre, the students gained not just new vocabulary and grammar skills, but a deeper sense of how stories are shaped—and how they could shape their own. The classroom came alive with imagination and learning. It was one of the clearest examples I’ve seen of how creativity can deepen understanding and build confidence.
That same spirit has followed me into my work today. Whether I’m building a website, experimenting with video, or shaping an idea into a blog post, I still get that spark. Creativity has many forms, but it always starts with curiosity and a willingness to explore.
Creativity Isn’t Just a Talent—It’s a Way of Thinking
There’s a common belief that creativity is something you either have or you don’t. And yes—some people do seem to have a natural flair for music, storytelling, or visual art. Talent is real.
But that’s only one part of the picture.
Creativity is also a way of thinking. A way of approaching the world with curiosity, openness, and the willingness to try something new—even if you’re not sure how it will turn out.
The word creativity has its roots in the Latin creare—to make, bring forth, or produce. For a long time, creation was seen as something divine, something only gods could do. It wasn’t until much later that people began to see creativity as a human trait—something we all carry, in different forms.
And I think that’s the beauty of it.
You don’t have to be born with a special gift to live a creative life.
You just need the space—and the permission—to explore.
But permission isn’t always freely given.
Sometimes we need it from others: a teacher who believes in us, a friend who says “that’s a great idea,” a parent who gives us room to experiment. And often, the hardest permission to grant is the one we give ourselves—to be messy, to be unsure, to try something just because it brings us joy.
That’s why I believe so strongly in nurturing creativity from a young age—not grading it too soon, not boxing it in, and never smothering it with expectations. When children are encouraged to explore, to make things up, to follow their curiosity, they carry that sense of possibility with them. And even as adults, we can return to it—if we remember that creativity doesn’t need a reason beyond being meaningful to us.
Creativity isn’t about perfection or performance.
It’s about paying attention. Following your instincts. Letting yourself learn and play and reshape things as you go.
Whether it shows up as a talent, a habit, or a quiet little experiment—it matters.
Because the more we practice thinking creatively, the more connected we become to who we are, and what we’re capable of imagining.
🌿 Your Turn
I’d love to know—where does creativity show up in your life, even if you haven’t called it that before?
Feel free to share a story or a small moment in the comments. Let’s celebrate the quiet, everyday ways we all create.
This post is part of an ongoing journey here on PixelPia’s Perspective, where I explore creativity, learning, and personal growth. If that sounds like something you’d enjoy, you’re welcome to subscribe to the newsletter for occasional updates and new blog posts.
