A question came up for me when I was writing the other day–why did it take so long for me to embrace my identity as an artist? I’m nearly 35 and still a bit terrified of labeling myself as such. There are a lot of factors at play, but I think a major one is fear of failure. When I was young, any whiff of potential failure sent me running in the other direction. This was especially true for the things that I loved most like writing, acting, and dancing. I still struggle with handling rejection, but I’m getting better at it. It still hurts, though, especially when it involves something I love.