Case Studies = Blank Mind

// The Blank Page

I sat down this weekend with a coffee, the intention clear in my head: I really needed to write some case studies on my Let Them Create website and begin to really celebrate the work I've been doing - there's been a fair amount over the last few months. I didn't want to just be factual though because that's not inspiring at all - I wanted to tell the stories - the people I work with are people and I want to tell their story as much as anything.

And then… nothing.

Now, on a Tuesday morning, I can sit down with my Macbook and form an article out of a fleeting thought - I can turn a shower thought into a full blow story but not on Sunday - It was weird because it was a slow, graceful nothing that came out - it was a brick-wall nothing.

My brain didn’t wander about and come up with a million ideas on how to tell the little case study story - it just stopped. Completely.

It’s a strange kind of paralysis, isn’t it? I find it weird how you can talk all day about someone else’s brilliance, about their wins and their value. (who doesn't love the word value) But when it’s your own work - your own name on the line - the words shrink. They get shy.

I wanted to sound proud without sounding smug, I wanted to be honest without overexposing myself and I didn't want to fall into the safe, vague, “we deliver value” type nonsense that everyone else does.

And so I stared at the page. And moved onto something else.

// The Trouble With Telling

I think my problem wasn't with the story's because I can tell those stories - it's not just about finding the right words, i’s about deciding which parts of yourself you’re willing to show and how far you're happy to go with being exposed.

When I think about my projects, I see every messy bit - the rewrites, the edits on the videos which I know could be better - so when it's time to show up and go 'these are the best bits I have to offer' - it's a daunting task.

I'm always improving and I'm always working hard on what the next creative idea is all about which is why I wanted my little case studies to be stories on how and what we filmed. I still remember my first 'gig' as a videographer when I set the wrong video picture profile and that carried through to the photos I took - it kinda ruined all the footage of the day and (luckily) it was free gig - because I wanted the exposure to that type of stuff but that memory still haunts me.

So when I try to describe some of the finished things, my brain doesn’t go to “success story" - it goes to the outtakes.

And outtakes are hard to sell.

// The Shift

I'm still trying to work out how I can work on the case studies - but I'm coming to realise that maybe that’s the point - with all my work, maybe case studies - and while I'm at it, maybe all stories - don’t have to be polished highlight reels. In fact, I know this is the case and I can feel myself arguing with myself over something which really doesn't matter.

And again, I'm going round in circles in my own head because if I say 'it doesn't matter' - then why do I have such a mental block when it comes to putting something onto a page?

I don't want to say that it's the dreaded Imposter Syndrome but it just might be... I (as most people do) struggle with accepting whether I'm good at anything.. I've been going through a weird period lately (and it comes in waves) where I wonder whether what I'm doing is the right thing?

And that plays itself out as I take a look at my own work - because all I see is the bits that I struggle with, not the bits which show up as perfect to the person I'm creating for..

What if the thing people remember struggles you've gone through personally to get there, but the moments you created for them?

I mean, that’s what I love about hearing other people’s stories - the texture, the human bits and I'm sure some of my videos resonate more because of the late-night edits and awkward drafts and I think that only happens when you’re deep in the trenches - figuring it all out.

So why do I keep editing those parts out of my own?

// The Invitation

So maybe this isn’t one of those neat, uplifting endings where I tell you I’ve cracked it - because I haven’t. It feels weird to end a blog in this way but I want you to know that I'm struggling to sum it all up into one tidy little 'case study'.

I think others would probably feel the same when it comes to writing their own achievements on their Linkedin or adding career highlights to a CV but I want you to know that I’m still in it.

I'm still staring at my own work and feeling… nothing. Not pride. Not joy. Just the itch to make it better - a constant quest for perfectionism which I can't shake off.

It’s a strange contradiction, isn’t it?

The process itself - the filming, the shaping of an idea, the late-night edit that feels like it might just land perfectly - that is joy to me - That’s the part that lights me up.

But the result?

It’s always a little short of where I want it to be. Always missing some invisible thread I can’t quite name - it's like an artist constantly etching away at the clay, always taking a little bit more to shape it just right.

And maybe that’s just how I’m wired. Maybe it’s a kind of perfectionism I’ll never fully shake. Maybe that’s okay? I don't know.

Because showing up like this - as someone who can’t quite take joy in the finished thing - is still showing up. And maybe the point isn’t to love the result.

Maybe the point is to keep chasing the thing you’ll never fully catch.

So here I am, writing about the case studies I still can’t bring myself to write.
And maybe you’re here too, with your own version of the thing you can’t finish, can’t frame, can’t make feel “enough.”

What if we stopped trying to fix that part of ourselves?
What if we let the work be both the joy and the frustration?

Where would be the fun in it all working first time anyway?