Anticipate the Angst: Why Self-Doubt is Part of Making Something Good

There’s a quote I keep coming back to from Eddie Shleyner’s VeryGood Copy:

“Self-doubt is baked into creative work—and all you can do is anticipate the angst, embrace it when it comes, and convert it into good energy, something productive.”

If you’ve ever made something from scratch—be it a film, a pitch, a painting, or a product—you know the feeling. That nagging voice that whispers: Is this any good? What if this falls flat? Or worse: What if I’m not the right person to make this?

I work in video production, often telling emotional, high-stakes stories for nonprofits, organizations, and brands. I’ve been doing this for over 15 years, and still—every time—I wrestle with self-doubt. It shows up at strange hours. Sometimes in the quiet before a shoot. Sometimes while reviewing an early cut that feels clunky and wrong. Sometimes while watching something done and wondering if I missed the mark completely.

But I’ve learned not to panic. Because doubt, as Eddie puts it, is baked in.

It means I’m trying something new. It means I care. And most importantly, it means there’s an opportunity right in front of me—to turn that discomfort into something better.

This isn’t just true in film or editing. Writers get it. Designers feel it. Entrepreneurs live in it. Any time you're building something that didn’t exist before, doubt will try to ride shotgun. You can’t kick it out of the car—but you don’t have to let it take the wheel.

The trick—and it’s a hard one—is to anticipate the angst. To know it’s coming, not as an obstacle, but as a part of the terrain. Then, when it shows up, to sit with it. To listen. And then to move—to channel it into another draft, a new take, a late-night tweak that suddenly unlocks something better.

I recently worked on a short documentary where everything felt wrong in the rough cut. I questioned the pacing, the structure, the emotional core. For a day or two, I thought I’d failed the story. But sitting in that discomfort forced me to reimagine the ending. I found a moment we’d almost cut—just a quiet glance from our subject—and built everything around it. That single shift unlocked the heart of the story.

Self-doubt didn't disappear. It transformed.

If you’re in the thick of making something, and you're second-guessing everything, take heart. You’re not off track. You’re in it.

To my fellow creatives: don’t fear the doubt. Expect it. Embrace it. Use it.

And to clients who work with creatives: if you see us wrestling with uncertainty, know that it’s not hesitation—it’s commitment. It's the mark of someone who wants to get it right.

Self-doubt isn’t the end of the road. More often than not, it’s the sign you’re getting closer to something real.