Creative fitness isn’t a personality trait; it’s conditioning
And a willingness to start - badly - publicly, repeatedly and keep going anyway. When you come in later, not late, you don’t have the luxury of hesitation. You don’t romanticise the process.
You just work.
There’s a narrative that creativity is a gift. That some people just “have it.” and maybe they do. But what I’ve learned, quickly, is this: what looks like talent is often repetition. Writing, reading, failing, finishing, and starting again.
Back to that later…
Palpable fear sat in my throat
After presenting as a stable family member for most of my adult life, everything shifted. Life pulled the rug out from under me and I had to start over. It was a beautiful gift, in hindsight.
But at the time, palpable fear sat in my throat, constantly.
Overnight, I had become a single mother to two incredible children, so how could I not know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
On the outside, I didn’t look like my problems, but the inside was in tatters. There was only one thing I knew for sure: I loved to write.
By beautiful synchronicity, I arrived on the AAA School of Advertising campus at the age of 36 after being in fashion and commercial for FMCG for 12 years.
Starting from scratch
I started from scratch, with no income, but with support from family and friends.
I came to understand who I am in that season. I gratefully seized an opportunity and focused until I got what I wanted.
I’m not timid, not afraid to ask, so I learned to compress experience, to move faster, reach further, and take what I needed to grow.
I’m not afraid to fail either. I’ve already started over once in life and I can do it again if I had to. I did that. That’s my edge.
Creative fitness
So I firmly believe creative fitness isn’t a personality trait; it’s conditioning. And like any training, it requires intention.
No one becomes excellent by waiting for inspiration between meetings. You build it. Through repetition.
Writing or designing is strength training. You do it consistently, especially when it’s bad. You push through doubt, through the impostor voice, through the noise.
Reading and watching is cardio. It expands you. Builds stamina while teaching rhythm, tone, possibility.
Technique is form. You study structure. Learn how a script breathes differently from a headline, how a film idea holds, how a digital idea moves.
And then there’s living. In a country like ours, culture isn’t a reference, it’s the work itself. You simply can’t create for people you’re not willing to see. The texture is there, you just have to notice it.
Not easy
It sounds simple. It isn’t easy.
Because the industry won’t always give you the work you want. You might want a film, but your day is banners.
You might want long copy, but your brief needs eight words and a CTA. Adapt, become an after-hours creative.
Not to glorify burnout, rest matters. But know this: sometimes the work you need isn’t the work you’re given, make it.
Write the scripts no one briefed. Build the portfolio you wish you had. Train for the level you want. Not every day of course, life is full. But consistently enough that you’re moving.
Starting and finishing
And then, finish.
There are a lot of starters in this industry. I’m one of them. But finishing is the discipline, it’s what turns instinct into craft.
Another thing I’ve learned: optimism is part of the work. Pessimism can sound sharp, even intelligent. But it rarely builds anything.
The work that moves people is built on belief. That it can be better, that audiences deserve better and that your voice, even if it came in later, has a place.
Starting later taught me I didn’t have time to be precious. I had time to work. To write. To fail. To try again next week. When you arrive differently, you move differently. You don’t wait for permission.
You begin, over and over again.
What I know for sure now, as a content lead at Retroviral, is this: creative fitness has nothing to do with when you start.
It’s about how often you’re willing to begin again.