I’ve always loved creating content that sparks inspiration and deeper thinking. For a long time, I kept asking myself one question: Why must artists stay true to who they are?
And it wasn’t until I watched Chinese American figure skater Alysa Liu perform at the Winter Olympics—and learned more about her journey—that I found the answer again: artists have to be themselves.
At 14, she became the youngest women’s singles champion in the history of the U.S. National Championships. In 2020, she won again—two consecutive titles. And in 2022, right after finishing her Olympic dream, she suddenly announced her retirement at just 16. Probably the youngest person to retire in history.
Her reason? She wanted a completely different life.
After stepping away from skating, she went to college, attended concerts, got her driver’s license, took road trips, and enjoyed her first real vacation. She tried skiing, snowboarding—things she never had the chance to experience during years of intense training. During this unexpected “pause,” she rediscovered her true passions: “I love art. I love dancing. I love music. I love sports. Figure skating is the combination of all of them.” She said.
When she returned to the ice, the first thing she did was “fire” her father from supervising her training. She told her team she would choose her own costumes and pick her own music. Her Olympic performance wasn’t just a showcase of techniques—it was a living, breathing soul expressing her love for skating, for art, and for life itself.
That is the essence of art, music, and sports: Technique is the form. Emotion is the soul.
Why is it so hard for many people to “be themselves”?
Modern education plays a huge role in this process. Modern education was built in the industrial age to create standardized workers—punctual, obedient, easy to instruct, and easy to replace. From childhood, we’re told to fit in, behave, avoid trouble, and follow the rules. In essence, it’s a system of discipline.
When someone lacks autonomy and simply follows instructions—studying because they’re told to study, working because they must work—they become like a machine.
Before Alysa Liu’s break, Alysa trained because she had to train. Just like many of us go to school because we’re told to, or study just to work.
We rarely stop to ask: What do these things actually mean to me?
And without inner motivation, true creation becomes extremely difficult. In art—or any field that requires imagination and expression—if your soul isn’t present, your work becomes empty, blurry, and powerless.
The artists remembered throughout history were never “normal.”
From Vincent van Gogh, Paul Gauguin, Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dalí
to contemporary creators like Jean-Michel Basquiat, performance artist Marina Abramović, music legends Madonna and Lady Gaga and so on.
None of them were “normal.” They stood out precisely because of their fierce individuality and their refusal to be tamed. Their work carries a soul that cannot be replicated.
They became great because they chose to be themselves—not because they tried to be ordinary.
Staying true to yourself is an artist’s lifelong homework
If you want to create art that carries your own temperament and soul, you must stay true to who you are. And yes—this is, in a way, an act of resistance against being disciplined by society.
The more you try to please others, the more you care about evaluations and trends, the more your art loses its core. But staying true to yourself does not mean rejecting learning or refusing growth. It doesn’t mean acting recklessly under the excuse of “finding yourself.” It means that no matter what pressures surround you, you don’t lose your own voice or your own thinking.
It means being willing to trade short-term comfort for long-term goals—to invest your time, energy, and focus into what truly matters.
Even if the road is long and lonely, you keep walking in your direction. Because deep down, you know: Every hardship shapes you. Every bit of persistence will bloom someday.
Staying true to yourself becomes a silent, powerful force
Being yourself is hard. You’ll face doubt, loneliness, misunderstanding, criticism, failure, and lack of recognition. But these experiences help you grow, help you refine your voice, and help you discover who you really are.
Your exploration, your struggles, and your reflections all become part of your artistic language. Over time, the independence, resilience, patience, and faith forged along the way turn into an invisible force—one that quietly moves the people who see your work.
For artists, staying true to yourself is a form of art.
Through drawing, music, performance, and movement, we are transmitting our feelings, our perspectives, and the value of our unique existence. And even in the rising wave of AI, this inner strength—the insistence on being fully human—will keep us from losing our direction. It will remain your core competitive power, and your long-term value.
I’m Daisy, someone who loves creating and sharing art. If you enjoy my content, feel free to like, subscribe, and leave a comment. Tell me your thoughts about art—I’d love to hear them.
Miss Daisy Drawing 
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