love without losing your creative passion

I need a lot of trust to be able to create art and write in peace. That means, I also need a relationship where this is possible without immediately breeding mistrust.

"I could have created so much if I hadn’t met him," a friend tells me over a glass of white wine, and I can relate and not relate at the same time. Artistic dry spells caused by penises aren’t something I usually deal with and I can tell you exactly, why.

I'm proud to say that no man has ever managed to keep me from writing. Sure, maybe for a month during the honeymoon phase. But I always knew deep down: If I don't stick to my artistic practice, if I let it slide, if I don't create anything for an entire year, I'll probably never get back into it.

Or even worse: If the relationship ends, I'll hate myself for neglecting my writing, my self-reflection, my book, my business for a man. I'll be left with nothing – in a romantic, cultural, and sometimes even financial sense.

I know it’s hard. Dating and relationships can feel like they require your full attention. It can be quite overwhelming. But certain thoughts and actions have helped me stay on track with my practice and avoid drifting off for months – or even years – despite dating, relationships, or situationships.

The One-Month Rule

When I fall in love, I give it my full attention for a month and see how it blooms. I'm not a robot, of course I want those long nights, those make-out sessions, and to wake up next to the person I think, for a moment in time, might be my soulmate. But, but, but: After one, at most one and a half months, routine needs to come back into my daily life.

That means: Wake up, drink black tea, sit at the desk. Write, write, write. And here’s where the first problems can already arise if rule #2 isn’t followed.

No Losers

Losers are cute and hot, but they’re often unemployed and/or parent-funded, which means they have way too much time. What doesn’t seem like a problem during the one-month rule – sometimes it even feels good (finally, so much us-time) – can soon backfire on you as an artist.

If you’re not careful, he’ll be jealous of your contracts, envious of your productivity, and try to lure you back into bed at 11 AM, even though you should be deep into chapter 15 by now. Get the point?

To ensure your artist career doesn’t suffer, you should N-E-V-E-R enter a serious relationship with a loser.

He will do everything to sabotage your art to keep you for himself. After all, he needs someone to procrastinate with.

It’s actually better to go for men with full-time jobs. They have to get up, they (hopefully!) have their shit together, and they understand when you have deadlines that can’t be postponed—because they have to meet deadlines too. You know, eye level and all that.

No Frustrated Artists

Speaking of men with jobs, I’ve come to believe that there should only be one full-time artist in a relationship and that’s me. Sure, I enjoy being with men who take me to concerts, festivals, events, and art performances of all kinds. But they don’t need to … do that for a living. In fact, I prefer it that way. Men who don’t create art are usually more interested in what you do because they themselves don’t do it.

On the other hand, men who write, paint, or tinker have their own insomnia, writer’s block (ugh); their own grant applications to file, and problems with their publishers that you really don’t want to hear about during foreplay.

Worst case: they're burned-out artists who haven’t produced anything in years and are coasting on past achievements.

And let’s not underestimate the competition in a relationship! You’d think it wouldn’t exist, but the vain artsy guy will eventually know exactly how much you earn (and how much he doesn’t) and how many awards you get (and how many he doesn’t). You have sold-out shows? The full-time employee celebrates your success with you. The artist drowns his sorrows with his friends who bad-mouth you. Know the difference!

Space and Routines

Okay, also very important: Maintaining your own space. For me, there’s nothing worse than a man who’s constantly in my space and can’t leave me alone for a week. A week is the minimum I need to think about a plot, a podcast season, or a rebranding.

If I feel like I have to constantly be on the phone or communicating to keep a connection from breaking, I get anxious. Nervous. And, right – you guessed it – I can’t write.

I need a lot of trust to be able to create art and write in peace. That means, I also need a relationship where this is possible without immediately breeding mistrust.

The All-or-Nothing Principle

The all-or-nothing principle prevents a damaged egg cell from implanting in the uterine lining in early pregnancy. I see relationships similarly. If a man has a problem with what I write, how much I write, where I publish, and the fact that I’m an author, he’ll realize this within the first four to eight weeks. If it doesn’t work out because I’m posting feminist takes on the internet, then it’s … simply not happening.

If he can’t handle me sharing my thoughts with a following, that’s a hard pill to swallow, no doubt. But it’s still better than having to hold back or pretend for years to come. I can’t stop practicing my profession. Fun fact: this has been expected of me – not explicitly, but certainly implicitly.

So: Be careful with men who not only harm your mental health but also damage your artist life. They often go hand in hand.

There really are men out there who respect the reality of being an author and don’t throw a tantrum when you’re absorbed in your passion.