Say No With Love Letters

At Breathing Space Creative we’re here to change the story society tells about artists. It starts with each creative believing their life and work matter, and grows into a world that finally sees the arts as essential. To do this, it starts with the self work.

Every month I’ll pick a common societal belief about writers/artists that are largely untrue today, and share a personal story about how I’ve personally and professionally said no with love to that and how we can all slowly start to reimagine artists role in this world. It’s more urgent now than ever.

This month let’s say no with love to this:

“Your creative legitimacy starts after publication.”

Reader,

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Last week, I took part in a financial workshop on establishing your net worth.

And if you’re anything like me, money is… tender. Loaded. The kind of thing you skim, then quickly slide back into the drawer.

Many of us grew up with very specific stories about money, so the idea of spending an entire session talking about it felt terrifying. More terrifying than it ended up being, actually, especially because a few of my closest creative friends and I have been working on our money mindset for years now. (I’ve got my seasonal Say No With Love tools to thank for that.) In fact, quick aside, here’s the latest presentation of that session. Halfway through the recording, I had an ecosystem aha—watch it in real time at the 38-minute mark. I wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t been writing this letter.

Okay, back to the topic at hand. Still, financial fears or not, I went in braced.

I led with what I know helps me enter into difficult things (I recommend finding out what this is for you). I’m a big data person. I know that when we stop skimming and really look—honestly, gently—there’s usually an aha waiting.

Then the facilitator Ronika Khanna (who, by the way, has spent years helping me feel okay about asking nonstop financial questions without ever making me feel foolish) said two words:

Assets.
Liabilities.

And I froze.

For the last couple of years, I’d only been looking at one side of that equation. What I owe. What feels heavy. What feels behind. What I didn't have yet.

I turned my camera off for a moment. There was this unexpected wave of emotion. And if I’m being honest—embarrassment.

I know, deep in my body, that I have assets that matter. Assets that are valuable to me. Assets that are worth something, even if they don’t show up neatly in a spreadsheet.

And then the lightbulb went on.

In our creative lives, we spend so much time not doing things because we think we don’t have enough experience. Enough credibility. Enough proof. We focus on what we don’t have yet, while discarding (sometimes unintentionally) all the stuff we have already acquired.

But what if we looked at our creative lives the same way we would our financial net worth?

What if we made our own real-life creative assets and liabilities inventory?

When I first started calling myself a creative—more specifically, a writer—within the writing and publishing world (which, for me, has always stretched beyond just the literary space), I hadn't published anything yet.

I didn't have opportunities to share my work with other writers.

I hadn’t even worked with or around other writers. I was as fresh and naïve as they come.

I’m so grateful for that version of me.

Because fast forward thirteen years and I’m finally a bit closer to where I want to be creatively. And I won’t sugarcoat it, it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But there’s no growth possible if we just sit inside of the comfortable. We know that!! And when you REALLY want something .. you're more open the hard work and the risk.

Taking risks is a core skill for writers. Every time we put work into the world, it’s a risk. We’re visible in ways we can’t always predict. Maybe we put on events, and no one shows up. Risk. Sending pieces out to literary magazines. Risk. Entering contests. Risk. Writing a book no one buys. Risk. That’s why finding low-stakes ways to take risks—to practice putting ourselves out there—is a muscle we have to keep flexing.

The other day, my power went out. My entire workday paused. I had a couple of client calls by phone, but everything else was… suspended.

After about ten minutes of annoyance (and this is growth, because it typically would have led to a full day of me complaining lol!), I decided to dig through an old box of papers that had been collecting dust.

You will not believe what I found…

In addition to amazing old printed-out-emails from my mentors, and super cool setting and character resources that I plan to alchemize into my ecosystem, but ... I found reflective writing from my very first writing class. Thirteen years ago. What?! As soon as I saw it I remember is was from an assignment that the incredible writer Betsy Warland had assigned us.

I made a coffee and sat down to read. And I recognized myself immediately.

The scared new writer? She was there.

The new writer who couldn’t even call herself a writer, she was there.

The writer without awards, publications, community. She was definitely there.

But so was the risk-taker.

Just reading the brief paragraph brought me back to a place.

The thirty-something single mom working at a coffee shop and part-time at the library, who signed up for her first writing program without any guarantee of where it would lead, and after borrowing half the money for the tuition—that version of me was there too.

I cried because I didn’t let the people who told me a life in the arts wasn’t possible stop me. It’s been a long road. A hard one. And I mean hard. There were big personal sacrifices too and maybe that's something for my next letter.

Navigating all of this newness, uncertainty and risk-taking, alongside loss, relationship shifts, life doing what life does.

We can’t wait for perfect conditions. We move when there’s that internal pressure. That quiet, bursting feeling. Intuition and gut instinct are powerful—and honestly, they’re some of the most threatened assets we have.

That writing I found is going straight into my assets column. And I called in my tools from today and marked it up! The next time I look at this piece of reflective writing, I’l be able to clearly see and feel the growth.

It has value. It matters. And clearly, it has a lot to say—it fueled this entire letter (that’s the work of the ecosystem approach, we think about how one thing fuels another).

Ps for those of you who I’ve not worked with yet, when I say “ecosystem approach” this is what I mean, in a nutshell: The ecosystem approach sees creativity as woven into all of life—work, family, rest, community—where each part shifts like a volume knob, and we learn to adjust the levels instead of turning anything off.

The ecosystem approach also helps us handle all the moving parts because we can see, and understand, how it all connects. It’s no longer just a long, unmanageable list of “things you do,” which might include writing or your creative outlet. It’s one intricate, working watch, and when you peel back the face, you see a hundred parts moving exactly as they should. Yeah, I could probably hit you with a dozen other metaphors, but you get the idea.

That old reflective writing also, paired with that financial workshop, sparked a new workshop I’m quietly building as part of my ecosystem process. Because our whole lives integrate into our creative worlds. This is not an all-or-nothing thing.

If you’re curious about joining one of my Creative Net Worth sessions sometime in the new year (likely spring or summer), you can let me know by adding your name here. Heck, this might even turn into a newsletter of its own. Y’all know my ecosystem is a real, living thing!

When I think about the assets I’ve collected over time, I think about the books I’ve read and reread. The mentors I’ve worked with. The workshops I’ve taken facilitated by some incredible creatives. The personal development work (maybe the biggest asset of all). My unread books that make up my TBR library. My personal values. The bad health habits I let go of. The toxic people I said bye-bye to. My small, trusted circle. Stacks of reflective notebooks. Every time I raised my hand to ask a question in a room where everyone else was (seemingly) more experienced. The artsy jobs I didn’t get. My rejection letters—including the very first hardcopy one I ever received.

All of the above is both asset-worthy and risk-related.

​

Being a working, thriving artist today looks different for everyone, and you’ll likely build a diverse set of income streams—gradually, over time.

Even the smallest form of creative stability is rarely immediate nor should it be. But sometimes we buy into the narrative that if it doesn’t happen immediately it’s losing value by week (and this thinking fuels how society views the artist, it's systemic, people!!), and I say a whole-hearted heck no to that), but it requires openness and a whole lotta risk-taking. This is where the big ecosystem work comes in: your creative assets, everything you’ve cultivated, your notebooks, your risks, your questions, your quiet persistence ... are the fuel for those potential streams.

I think back to that single mom, making choices for her future self, sitting in her first writing class, and I am beyond proud of her. She stayed steady. She didn’t let the noise knock her down (in fact, she’s now got some pretty SWEET and dependable noise-blocking headphones lol).

​

So what’s your creative net worth?

Everything I’ve named here is just a sprinkle. There’s more. We just forget to look ... until the power goes out.

I believe, wholeheartedly, that the work and longevity of today’s creatives is going to require a very different approach. And I’ve realized that my microphone—mighty and trusted as she is—is no longer big enough.

So come 2026, you’re going to hear more volume. More voices. More conversations. There are people paying attention to what’s being built at Breathing Space Creative, and I’m genuinely excited for you to be part of it.

The self.
The project.
The ecosystem.

It all connects—if you’re open to letting it.

Did this letter spark something in you? Consider sending me a tip to help me continue this work!

​

Send Chelene a little love!

Reflect + Rewrite

This Week's Reflection Question: What are your creative assets?

After answering the reflection question, revisit what you wrote.
Is there a single line—just one—that surprised you?
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Maybe it stirred something. Maybe it made you pause.
Copy that line out. Sit with it.
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As always, if you feel called, I’d love to see it. Hit reply and share it with me.

Have a creative "myth" that you'd like me to explore in one of these monthly letters? Please share it and I just might add it to my queue ; )

See you next month! If this letter moved you in some way, please forward it to a friend.

with love, Chelene

Founder, Breathing Space Creative

Want to explore more of my work? I offer bespoke writing mentorships, creative support calls, and free creative resources through my ​studio​. But for now, just take what you need. I’ll be here.

What's happenin' in the studio:

Every month, I’ll share a little peek into what’s happening inside the wider Breathing Space Creative studio. We shift things seasonally, so if something sparks your interest, take a look while it’s still in this season’s mix.

Our Winter Freebie: The Breathe IN Reflective Writing Kit​
By becoming your own practitioner first, you’ll learn how to build a reflective writing practice that reveals what’s asking to be carried forward into your creative work, your personal growth, or the wider ecosystem of your life.

Inside, you’ll learn how to:

• Build your chart—your emotional and creative “baseline”
• Spot patterns you didn’t know you were repeating
• Turn your writing into decisions, not just reflection

Know exactly what insights belong in your project, your personal work, or your wider creative ecosystem.

The Seasonal Breathe In Reflective Writing Kit

Our Winter Workshop: The Breathe IN Workshop ​
This one-hour pay-what-you-can session invites you to pause, breathe, and listen differently—to yourself, your work, and the quiet patterns shaping your days. Inspired by my Breathe IN Method, this workshop uses writing as a reflective tool to help you notice what’s surfacing beneath the surface—what’s asking to be seen, understood, or carried forward.

The Seasonal Breathe IN Workshop

Recommended Creative Investment | Ask Ronika Membership​
I have been working with Ronika Khanna (a CPA, CA, and CFA dedicated to making accounting, tax, and finance easier to understand) for years. She has a ton of free resources, videos, and even a new membership for those who want to feel empowered navigating their financial health.

Learn more about Ronika Khanna