I know I need to market my shop, so why can't I make myself do it?

You can't make yourself do it because the marketing you've been handed is a daily obligation with no finish line and no visible result, and nobody can sustain work built like that. It isn't laziness, and it definitely isn't that you don't care about your shop.

Look at the actual shape of the avoidance for a second. You'll happily work until 11pm finishing an order, and then the photo of the thing you made sits on your phone for days, unposted, and you can't explain to yourself why. Lazy people don't work until 11pm. Something else is going on, and I know it from the inside, because I did the daily version of marketing myself for years, and I'll tell you what it cost me further down.

Why do I avoid promoting my own work?

Because every part of it is set up to feel worse than making, and I mean that seriously.

Making gives you something back. You start the thing, you finish the thing, and it sits there on the table being finished at you, proof that the evening went somewhere. Posting gives you nothing back, or it gives you 11 views, which is somehow worse than nothing, because now you have an exact number for how few people cared.

Making ends. Marketing never does. There's no last stitch, no version of done, you post today and you already owe tomorrow's post, and a job that can never be finished is a genuinely hard thing to make yourself start.

Then there's the part nobody says out loud: it asks you to talk about yourself, and most makers find that properly uncomfortable rather than just inconvenient. Half of us went into making because we'd rather let the work do the talking. Posting feels like shouting into a room when you can't even tell whether the room has anyone in it.

And all of that is competing for hours that were spoken for before the day started. Of course you can't make yourself do it. Honestly, I'd be more worried about you if you could.

How do I make myself post more consistently?

You remove as many of the moments where you have to decide as you can, because the deciding is where it dies.

Batch it. Sitting down once and photographing and writing a week of posts in one go is a completely different ask from finding the will every single day. The daily version means winning an argument with yourself 7 times a week, and the batched version means winning it once.

Attach it to something that's already happening. Photograph the thing while it's still on the table in front of you, in the light you made it in, rather than later as a separate job you have to set up from scratch. The photo taken at the moment of finishing costs you 30 seconds, and the photo saved for "when I get a minute" costs you a week of low-level guilt and then mostly still doesn't happen.

And lower the bar to what you'd actually text a friend. "Look what I finished at 11pm" is a caption. If you'd send it to your best mate, it's good enough for the feed, and I've written more about what actually works on Instagram for makers if that's where your people are.

All of that genuinely helps with the friction. But the friction was never the whole problem, which is why I won't pretend batching will fix this on its own.

Do I really have to post every single day?

No, and this is the belief worth poking at, because almost nobody questions it. The version of marketing most makers get sold goes: show up daily, forever, and hope the algorithm is kind. An endless obligation with no target, where the reward for doing it well is that you get to keep doing it.

But have you noticed that no other part of your business works like that? An order has a delivery date, a market stall has a day booked in the calendar, and even a commission has the moment you hand it over. The making is full of finish lines, which is exactly why you can always make yourself do the making, even at 11pm, even shattered.

Marketing can have a finish line too. Work that builds towards a date, a collection launching on a set day, with a runway of weeks in front of it. It's the whole logic behind starting a Christmas collection 45 days out rather than scrambling at everyone else's pace in December. The date gives the work a shape, and a shape is something a tired person can actually finish. The daily version feels endless because it genuinely is endless, and no amount of motivation fixes a job with no end built into it.

What does marketing with a finish line look like?

I can tell you, because I did the daily version properly first. Producing content for Instagram was taking a lot of time, and I had a newborn and a toddler at the time, so it was time I did not have. Waiting for my list to grow wasn't too bad, to be fair. I was learning, and I was earning something along the way. But the content had to keep going out, hoping people saw it.

The moment I started launching instead, I still made content. It just didn't have to go out in the same fast beat rhythm as before, hoping people saw it. Suddenly you were in control of when people knew about you.

And I want you to notice that nothing about my discipline improved that week. What changed was the point of the content: everything I made was building towards a date I had chosen, instead of feeding a feed that would be hungry again by morning. The posting stopped being a tax on my evenings and started being part of a build, the way cutting fabric is part of a quilt.

The bit that mattered most had nothing to do with the shop, though. Launching gave me time back, and I kept an hour of it for myself. I lifted weights for the first time in my life, I got a personal trainer, and I started to feel more human. I'd been running around after children, husband, general life, and I hadn't spared a single moment for myself until that point. I truly cherished that hour.

If nobody has ever offered you the launching version of marketing, that's the one I teach. The starting point is free, an email course called 7 Days to Shift Your Shop, one short email a day for a week, walking you through the move from posting and hoping over to building towards a date, with people who actually asked to hear from you. It's where I'd start if the daily version has never stuck.

You would never take on an order with no finish date. That's the job the posting has been asking you to do all along