Issue 06: The Permission You’re Waiting For Isn't Coming
I was at a birthday dinner recently when a relative handed the camera to one of the guests to take a family photo. It was a chaotic moment, as celebrations tend to be when the whole family is together.
As he handed over the camera, my relative said a couple of times, “Let him take it. He’s a professional photographer.”
Then my eight-year-old niece, standing with the rest of us for the photo, said: “No! Drishti is a professional photographer.”
I laughed, but the moment stayed with me.
Because she said it with a certainty I’m not sure I’ve always allowed myself to have.
I don’t share this story because I’m wrestling with whether or not to call myself a professional photographer. I’ve never been particularly interested in putting a label on the kind of creative I am. I share it because the moment touched on something I’ve been thinking about for the past few weeks.
When did confidence become something we believe we have to earn before we’re allowed to embody it?
Watching my niece say it with such certainty made me wonder if this is something we slowly lose as we get older. As children, we seem much more willing to claim what we believe, to try before we know we’re good at something, and to speak without first gathering evidence that we’re entitled to.
Somewhere along the way, we start asking for proof.
We wait for the title, the recognition, the award, the praise about a body of work - some kind of external validation that tells us we’ve finally earned the right to trust ourselves.
But confidence rarely works that way.
In The Creative Act: A Way of Being, Rick Rubin writes, “You can doubt your way to excellence.”
Self-doubt exists in all of us. So do fear, uncertainty, and insecurity. I don’t think the goal is to eliminate those feelings before we move forward, but to learn how to move alongside them. Sometimes even use them as a catalyst for growth.
I’ve certainly found that to be true in my own life. There have been plenty of moments when self-doubt and a lack of confidence have been loud, and yet growth has been happening at the same time. Photography, in particular, has given me a way to practice this.
The creative process continually asks me to make choices at every stage without knowing whether they will work.
Beginning the work — I learn to trust my ideas enough to take the first step.
Creating the work — I learn to trust what catches my eye, even when I can’t fully explain why.
Sharing the work — I learn to put something personal into the world before I know how it will be received.
Each one of those moments asks the same thing of me: to act before certainty arrives.
Over time, those lessons have extended far beyond my creative practice. Photography has become a place where I rehearse courage in small ways. And slowly, that practice has made it easier to do the same in the rest of my life. To step outside my comfort zone. To make decisions without having every answer. To trust that I can figure things out as I go.
Sometimes those decisions are small. Sometimes they are life-changing - like choosing to leave behind a life I had built over many years and move back to India. The scale may be different, but the muscle feels surprisingly similar. The more I act, the stronger the muscle gets.
It’s also important to acknowledge that doubt doesn’t disappear once you become more confident. It reshapes itself and finds new ways to show up.
I’ve been writing this newsletter for six months now, and I still feel nervous before I send every issue. Putting my ideas into the world hasn’t become effortless simply because I’ve done it before. But each time, it gets a little easier.
My recent trip to Ladakh came with its own set of mental battles.
Before I even arrived, I was frustrated with myself because I hadn’t figured out how to properly scout photography locations. My inner dialogue sounded something like: How can you be a good photographer if you can’t even figure out which location would be best for sunrise or sunset?
Once I was there, the doubt found something new to attach itself to. I struggled with focus stacking on my Fujifilm and immediately started questioning whether I knew my camera well enough. You’ve had this camera for years, and you still don’t know all its functions?
Then, back home, looking through the photographs, it showed up again. Why isn’t this image sharp? What was I thinking when I composed this one? None of the photographs from this day are good. You should have slowed down. You should have checked your settings. You rushed the shot.
The interesting thing is that none of these thoughts necessarily mean I lack confidence. They are reminders that there will always be another edge to grow into. Perhaps that’s what Rubin means when he says we can “doubt our way to excellence.” Doubt can point us toward what we still want to learn without becoming proof that we aren’t capable. Confidence isn’t pretending the doubt isn’t there. It’s learning to move forward while it is.
In fact, I’ve had a few moments over the last several days where I’ve had to practice exactly this - choosing to act before I felt completely certain, and pushing myself toward opportunities that felt outside my comfort zone. I’ll save those stories for a future issue of Vision Inside Out.
For now, I want to turn the question back to you.
Where in your life are you waiting for proof before allowing yourself to act?
What title, milestone, recognition, or external validation or support have you quietly decided you need before you can trust yourself?
What would change if, instead of waiting to feel completely confident, you treated confidence as something you build through action?
Maybe it means beginning the project before you know exactly where it will lead. Sharing the work before you know how it will be received. Pitching yourself for the opportunity before you feel fully qualified. Making the decision before every variable is neatly resolved.
The point isn’t to ignore fear, doubt, or uncertainty. They will continue to show up. The practice is learning not to let them make every decision for you.
So the next time you find yourself waiting for someone or something to tell you that you’re ready, pause and ask:
What would I do here if I trusted myself a little more? - Then take one small step in that direction. No one else can give you permission to become confident. At some point, you have to start giving it to yourself.
Ladakh, Through My Eyes
I’ve been sitting with these photographs for a little while, and I’m excited to finally share my first set of images from India.
Ladakh was one of those places where the experience felt bigger than the photographs I came home with. My time there made me feel at home in India, genuinely excited to explore the natural landscapes this country offers. Rather than trying to show you everything Ladakh is, these photographs reflect the version of it that I noticed - the details, abstractions, and moments of wonder.
You can now explore the full gallery of 48 images. I'd love to hear what you think!
Help This Community Grow
If you've enjoyed reading Vision INSIDE OUT and if it's resonated with you, I'd love to ask a small favor.
I'm hoping to help more people discover this newsletter, and I think the most meaningful way to do that is through the words of the people already reading it.
I'd be incredibly grateful if you comment on this post with a few sentences about your experience.
Some questions to get you thinking:
How would you describe Vision INSIDE OUT to someone who has never read it?
What's one idea from Vision INSIDE OUT that has stayed with you long after you finished reading it?
What do you look forward to most when a new issue of Vision INSIDE OUT lands in your inbox?
How do you usually feel after reading an issue?
What's different about this newsletter compared to others you subscribe to?
With your permission, I'd love to share a few of your responses on my website and social media to help others discover this newsletter.
Thank you for being part of this journey. It means more than you know.
Until next time!
Drishti
Enjoyed reading this newsletter? Share it with your friends!
