HeyArtist

Hey Artist | Business Coaching for Creative Entrepreneurs


Self-Trust & Pricing: Why Pricing Your Work Feels So Hard

Let’s talk about something that even now, with over eighteen years in business still gives me that deep in my bones, pit of my stomach icky feeling: pricing your work. Why is it so hard, and why does it feel so emotionally exhausting? Why is it so difficult to layout the numbers, set our price and feel confident in that decision?

For so many of us, especially women, it comes from a core societal expectation of people-pleasing, of second guessing our ability to take up space and of not trusting that we actually deserve to be paid well for our work. The price we set for ourselves reflects our time invested, our skill, our experience, our history, and is directly tied to our self-worth.

There was an interviewer a while back that asked Olympian rugby player and Dancing With The Stars contestant Ilona Maher how she handled imposter syndrome: “I don’t have that,” she said, “No, I don’t know what that is. It’s okay to be proud of what you’ve done. It’s okay to believe you deserve something because you’ve put in the work for it.” 

Honestly, may that confidence live inside all of us, all of the time. I know it’s not always easy, but running a business is hard, being a woman is hard, being a mother is hard, having to clean our kitchen on repeat every day is hard (why do we do this?) — we’re already doing hard things. Why don’t be approach pricing our work with the same energy?

When you sit down to set your price, notice how your body reacts. Do you feel anxious? Is your stomach doing little somersaults? Do you second-guess yourself? That’s completely normal and it just means you care. Feeling anxious doesn’t mean you’re wrong for asking for a rate that actually sustains your life. The more you recognize and pay attention to these feelings, the easier it becomes to separate the emotion from the practical work of figuring out your price.

Part of why pricing feels so hard is that we often leave out everything that goes into the work behind the scenes. It’s not just the final product or the time invested at the appointment that deserves to be valued. It’s the time spent communicating with clients, planning, researching, and problem-solving, plus the history and experience of doing that for years. It’s the emotional labor you put into showing up fully, every single day. When you consider all of that together, you see that your rate cannot be an arbitrary number. It has to be a reflection of the full scope of what you bring to the table. You’re not overcharging. You’re finally recognizing value that has always been there.

Asking for your rate isn’t bragging, it’s an exercise in self-respect. It’s a boundary. It’s saying, “I know what I bring to the table, I’ve done the work, I have the experience, I am educated and highly skilled, and my time is valuable.” It’s claiming ownership of your worth.

If you don’t know where to start, think about everything that goes into your work. Consider every hour, every late night, every decision, every ounce of energy that goes into each client interaction or each handcrafted product. Then, map out a rate that covers not just your time but also your materials, your direct costs, and even the indirect costs that keep your business running. If that feels hard to do for yourself, ask: what would you pay your best friend? What would you pay your sister? Let that guide you toward a rate that feels fair, sustainable, and reflective of your skill. 

Confidence isn’t something you wait for, it’s something you step into. Asking for your rate feels personal because it is personal. But with reflection, awareness and a little self-trust, it stops being a question of self-worth and starts being a reflection of your value.

And when you feel doubt creeping in, circle back to Ilona Maher’s words: “It’s okay to be proud of what you’ve done. It’s okay to believe you deserve something because you’ve put in the work for it.” That’s not just for her. That confidence can live inside all of us too, and I genuinely hope it does. You’ve done the hard work. You deserve to be paid for it.

With love, 

Erin