How I deal with feeling “behind”

If there’s one feeling I know well as both an artist and a teacher, it’s the sense of being “behind.” Behind on projects, behind on deadlines, behind on where I thought I would be at this point in my career. Some weeks it feels like no matter how much I do, I can’t quite catch up. That feeling has followed me through graduate school, adjuncting, running a business, and building a studio practice alongside teaching. And I know I’m not the only one. Most artists I know carry some version of this with them…the nagging sense that they should be further along.

For a long time, I let that feeling shape my work in unhelpful ways. I pushed myself to overproduce, to stay up late, to say yes to every opportunity out of fear of missing out. I measured myself against other artists’ careers, their exhibitions, their publications, their follower counts, and I always came up short. The truth is, there’s always someone out there doing more, showing more, or achieving something you haven’t yet. If “behind” means not matching someone else’s path, then you will always be behind.

It took me years to see that the real problem wasn’t time management or productivity. It was perspective. Being behind is not a measurable fact; it’s a feeling. And feelings can be shifted. Here’s how I’ve learned to work with it instead of letting it take over.

Naming the Feeling

The first thing I do is acknowledge it. Pretending I’m not stressed or disappointed only makes it worse. If I feel behind, I say it out loud. Sometimes I even write it down: “I feel behind right now.” That simple act helps me recognize that this is a passing state, not a permanent reality. It gives me enough distance to start asking better questions. Behind compared to what? Behind compared to who? When I actually put those questions on the table, the feeling usually starts to lose its power.

Defining My Own Pace

One of the traps of feeling behind is that it’s almost always measured against someone else’s pace. Social media makes this worse. I scroll through a feed and see someone releasing new work every week, while I’m still struggling with one project. The truth is, my pace is not their pace. I remind myself that my time is split between teaching, making, writing, and running a creative business. My week will never look the same as someone who only works in the studio.

Defining my own pace means looking at what’s realistic for my life right now. If I’m teaching three classes, I can’t also expect to make work at the same volume as a full-time studio artist. That doesn’t mean I’m less committed. It just means my path looks different. The moment I accept that, the pressure eases.

Breaking Projects Down

Feeling behind often comes from looking at a big project and realizing how far I am from the finish line. A show to prepare for, a portfolio to update, a series to complete…it’s overwhelming when I only see the whole. The strategy that helps me most is breaking it down into small steps. If I know I can finish one collage, or edit one page, or design one exercise today, I’m moving forward. Progress is progress, even if it feels small.

This is also something I bring into the classroom. Students often feel crushed under the weight of a semester-long project. I show them how to divide the work into smaller milestones, and in doing so, I remind myself to do the same. Teaching that structure reinforces it in my own practice.

Honoring the Gaps

Another thing I’ve learned is that the gaps matter. The weeks when I don’t produce as much, or when I need to step back, are not wasted. They are part of the cycle. Sometimes what looks like being behind is really just the incubation period before the next phase of work. I used to panic in those moments, but now I try to let them be. I trust that the break will circle back into the making.

Shifting the Story

When I catch myself saying “I’m behind,” I try to reframe it. Instead of “I should have finished this by now,” I ask, “What do I want this to become?” Instead of “I’m late,” I ask, “What’s the next step I can take today?” Shifting the language helps shift the mindset. It takes the pressure off the timeline and puts the focus back on the work itself.

What Teaching Reminds Me

Teaching also keeps me in perspective. Students are often quick to feel behind. They think they’re the only ones struggling, or that they should have mastered a skill already. I remind them that everyone’s process takes time, that struggle is part of learning, and that art doesn’t happen on a perfect schedule. Every time I say that, I hear it as advice for myself. I need the reminder as much as they do.

Community Helps

Another way I deal with feeling behind is by talking to other artists. Community keeps me grounded. When I hear colleagues admit they’re also overwhelmed or off-schedule, it breaks the illusion that everyone else is perfectly on track. We share strategies, frustrations, and sometimes just the relief of saying it out loud. Knowing I’m not alone in the feeling makes it easier to move through it.

Accepting the Long View

Finally, I remind myself that art is a long game. A career doesn’t unfold in weeks or even years; it builds over decades. When I step back and look at the bigger picture, being behind on one project or one deadline doesn’t feel so urgent. What matters is that I keep showing up. Even if progress is slower than I’d like, it’s still progress.

Why It Matters

I don’t think the feeling of being behind will ever disappear completely. It’s part of being an artist in a world that measures productivity and success in constant comparison. But I’ve learned how to sit with it, how to question it, and how to reframe it so it doesn’t take me out of the work.

Being behind is rarely about time. It’s about expectation. When I adjust those expectations to fit the reality of my life and practice, I create space to keep going. And in the end, that’s what matters most. Not whether I’m ahead or behind, but whether I’m still making, still teaching, still showing up.