How Pottery Quietly Helped Me Rebuild My Confidence

I didn’t need a motivational seminar. I didn’t need someone yelling affirmations at me. I just needed clay.

There was a time—not long ago—when I felt like a hollow version of who I used to be. Not broken, exactly. Just… dimmed. I’d lost confidence in almost everything: my instincts, my body, my voice, my place in the world. I felt like I was constantly apologizing for simply existing.

A friend invited me to a pottery class at The Clay Hole, and I almost said no. It sounded like the kind of thing that confident, creative people did. Not someone like me. But something in me whispered: just go.

I walked in and was greeted not with judgment or pressure, but warmth. Music played. People laughed softly. No one expected me to be anything other than a beginner. And that, weirdly, made me feel safe enough to try.

Confidence doesn’t arrive. It emerges.

Pottery didn’t fix me overnight. But it gave me somewhere to show up each week. A rhythm. A space to try, fail, and keep going. I made wonky bowls and lopsided mugs and honestly, I loved them. They were mine. They existed because I shaped them into being.

As I learned to center clay on the wheel, I realized I was slowly centering myself. My hands grew steadier. My voice grew stronger. I stopped apologizing so much. Somewhere between trimming bases and glazing bowls, I started liking myself again.

That’s the magic of it. Pottery sneaks up on you. You’re just making a pot… until one day, you notice you’re walking a little taller, speaking up a little more, maybe even smiling in the mirror again.

Why The Clay Hole changed everything for me

I think there are a lot of pottery studios out there. But The Clay Hole felt different. No pressure. No perfectionism. Just thousands of tools to explore, instructors who somehow believe in everyone, and a weirdly healing snack bar (I swear those drinks are enchanted).

The studio itself is massive and alive with creativity, and Dan—the guy who runs it—actually shows up and creates right alongside us. That alone gave me permission to show up imperfectly, too.

One pot at a time

I don’t think pottery is the answer for everyone. But I do think it’s worth trying if you’re feeling a little lost, a little off-track, or just worn down by the weight of trying to be enough.

There’s something sacred about shaping clay with your hands. It reminds you that you are a creator. And when you create something you love—even if it’s imperfect—you start to remember that you are someone worth loving, too.

If you’ve been doubting yourself, if your inner voice has gotten mean, or if you just want to feel good in your own skin again… consider this your sign.

Come to The Clay Hole. Make something. Make something of yourself. You’re already more than enough.

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