When Feedback hurts...

the picture is of some bristol balloons, taken from bedminster train station while on the train, the sky is blue and there is a low strong sun and a mind the step sign on the platform with buildings in the background

This post was supposed to be a simple reflection on feedback- that was the theme this week over at The AMP Club and The ADHD Music Coach. I even made an interestingly edited video (I worked out what the 1.5 speed button does) about how feedback helped me shape one of my tracks. But writing the actual blog? Surprisingly hard.

It's complicated

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with feedback. I started as a singer-songwriter playing quietly in my childhood bedroom with a guitar I couldn't fit my arm around. Music was private, personal, and mine. It still is, in many ways. But somewhere along the line I realised: I also wanted to share it. There's only so much your cat will put up with. 

Punch in the heart, anyone?

But this also felt dangerous because when you share music, people have thoughts. And if you ask for those thoughts? You're supposed to listen and say wow thanks for that, that's really helpful, I'll take that on board… That’s feedback! And if you’re neurodivergent,  especially if you’ve got a history of rejection sensitivity or masking or being misunderstood, feedback can feel less like constructive input and more like inviting someone to punch you in the face. Or the heart.

Even now, as someone who is building resources and coaching support for other neurodivergent creatives, I find it hard to say “feedback is helpful and you should definitely seek it!” without also whispering: “but it can feel really hard.”

Art/Self/Art/Self/Art

For me, and I think for many artists, the art and the self are entangled. We want to separate them, to hold our creations (babies?) at arm’s length, but that’s not always possible. Especially if you made something from a tangled mess of feeling, memory, intuition, scraps of influence you can’t quite name. Sometimes you don’t even know what kind of track you’ve made until someone else tells you.

This isn’t laziness or lack of professionalism. It’s just how some of our brains work. Especially if you’re pulling from moods, films, offhand comments, fragments of old poems, and a synth patch you accidentally clicked on while looking for a bassline. You don’t always know what you’ve made-  and that’s where feedback can be powerful.

Don't forget I cried into a tree…

It’s just… asking for it takes courage; an act of vulnerability. Without robust support (and sometimes even with) the effects of sharing your work can break you, at least for a little bit. And just a reminder that I cried into a tree in my local park when I released my first track “Obsession”- along with feeling proud of what I'd made it also felt like I'd voluntarily opened a wound and was selling tickets for people to prod me in the wound with a stick…

So, if you find feedback hard, you’re not the only one. If it feels exposing, or confusing, or painful, that's because it is and even more so for neurodivergent creatives. But also… sometimes it helps. Without seeking and receiving feedback I wouldn't have released any music at all.  

you can check out the mildly deranged video about feedback on my track Our Love on my instagram @officialjmamusic   

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