Have you ever spent hours on a project, only to step back and realize… you don’t like it at all? The colors are wrong, the shape looks off, and the expression just isn’t right?
I’ve been there—more times than I’d like to admit.
The other day I sat down to make a cat. I’ve always struggled a bit with cats, but I’ve made a few that turned out quite cute, so I started this one feeling confident. As I worked, it grew larger and larger while I tried to fix little details that just didn’t seem right. By the time I finally stopped, nothing was right—including the color.
It’s discouraging when you spend so much time and effort on something you were excited about, only for it to feel like a complete flop. I walked away thinking, “Do you even know what you’re doing? Should you really be teaching others how to needle felt?”
Those little voices can get loud—telling us we’re not good enough, that there are others with more talent, that maybe we should just stop trying.
But I know I’m not alone in this.
I hear from so many of you who have felt the same way—some of you even before you’ve started. “I bought your kit months ago,” you tell me, “but I’m scared to start. What if it doesn’t turn out?”
Here’s the thing I remind myself—and my students—often: needle felting is incredibly forgiving.
If the head isn’t quite right, cut it off and make a new one. If the color feels wrong, cover it with a new layer of wool. If the ears look odd, pull them off and try again. Wool gives you so many chances to start over.
And when all else fails? Well, I have what I lovingly call my Frankenstein bucket—a collection of projects that didn’t quite work out. Sometimes I come back to them weeks or months later with fresh eyes, new ideas, and the patience to fix what wasn’t working. Other times, they just stay there as a reminder that not every creation has to be perfect to be valuable.
I can’t tell you how many times a project hasn’t turned out the way I hoped. Every artist, every maker, every felter has those moments. The difference is, I’ve learned to keep going.
The “failures” are frustrating, yes—but they’re also where we learn the most. They teach us about proportion, color, patience, and sometimes about letting go of perfection altogether.
I have projects that I love and am proud of, but it’s the ones that didn’t go well that have stayed with me. They’ve shaped how I teach, how I troubleshoot, and how I encourage others to keep creating.
So if you’re staring at a half-finished project that you don’t love—or a kit that you haven’t even dared to start—please know this: you’re not alone. Every maker, no matter how experienced, has those moments of doubt.
Here’s what helps me when I hit that wall:
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Step away for a bit. Sometimes a little distance is all you need to see things more clearly.
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Remember why you started. You felt inspired for a reason—don’t let perfectionism steal that joy.
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Allow it to be a lesson. What didn’t work this time might be exactly what helps you next time.
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Keep creating. Because for every “failure,” there’s a project waiting around the corner that will make your heart swell with pride.
Needle felting is a journey, not a test. Some days the wool cooperates and magic happens. Other days… well, you end up with a very large, oddly colored cat and a few new pieces for the Frankenstein bucket.
But every time you pick up that needle, you’re learning. You’re growing. You’re creating something that didn’t exist before—and that’s always worth it.
So keep felting, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. Those rewarding moments are coming.