It's Thursday evening, and you're sitting at the kitchen table with your laptop. A booking request pops up in your inbox. The club is exciting, the lineup is good, and the location would be a dream come true. But the offer: $80 plus "drinks and stage."

You stare at the screen. "Can I refuse?" "Or will no one ever say yes to me again?"

Many female musicians are familiar with this inner conflict. And it has consequences that run deeper than you might think.

Your price isn't just a number. It's a statement. To the industry, to your audience—and above all, to yourself.

Everyone is taking off.
New projects. Big goals. Shiny posts on social media.

And you? You're caught between fatigue, inner pressure, and the feeling that you're falling behind again. January can be brutal—especially for musicians who work independently, have no clear structure, and stumble into the new year with a creative mind.

The new year often doesn't start with a bang. Instead, it starts with doubts.

It's late at night and you're sitting at your laptop, working on your new booking list.
Your last email hasn't been answered. Your latest song has hardly been streamed. And someone close to you asks, "Do you really want to keep doing this?"

That's the moment when many people give up. Not because they lack talent, but because they believe they are alone.

You scroll through Instagram and see two artists hyping each other up.
They play a session together, post a reel, maybe even do a small tour.
And you think, "Why does this seem so effortless for others and not for me?"

It's just before your gig. You feel heavy, unfocused, your head is spinning. On paper, you're perfectly prepared, but your body says no.

And you ask yourself: What's wrong with me?

Maybe nothing at all. Maybe you're just in the wrong phase of your cycle and no one ever told you that it matters.

It's easy to set goals in January.
But often these are the goals that everyone has: "More reach. More appearances. More money."
What's missing? Inner alignment. The common thread. The feeling behind it.
A motto for the year.

A phrase that carries you when everything is shaking.

Everyone is getting started. New goals, new plans, new challenges.
And you? You may be wondering whether you now have to do everything "new" too: new strategy, new booking tool, new social media formats.

But what if the key to real growth isn't about turning everything upside down? But rather about making better decisions about what you really focus on?

Welcome to the new year.

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of vague resolutions that disappear by mid-January.
I want to make changes that will truly make my life as a musician and entrepreneur easier, clearer, and more powerful.

When I think back to the beginning of 2025, I can almost physically feel how different everything felt back then.

I was motivated, yes. But also overwhelmed. I had big plans, a to-do list full of ideas, and this feeling: "This year, it has to work."
And then? Life happened. The music business happened. I happened, with all my doubts, successes, detours, and real transformations.

Christmas.
The world holds its breath for a moment, at least at first glance. While many people are baking cookies or sitting together with their families, some of us are scrolling through booking emails, checking Spotify statistics, or wondering whether it's even worth posting anything between Christmas and New Year's.

I know that feeling. I know what it's like to feel a little "in between" at Christmas. Not completely offline—but not fully present either.

Something strange happens between Christmas and New Year: the world slows down—but right now, doors are quietly opening.
While many people switch off, these days are particularly valuable for the music business —especially for artists who want to start 2026 with structure, presence, and clarity.

But don't worry: this isn't about ruining your annual vacation with Excel spreadsheets.
It's about a few targeted ideas that you can easily implement – with plenty of room for yourself.

Here are five clever ideas on how you can use the holidays as a musician— strategically, but gently:

Christmas. For many, a celebration of joy; for musicians, often a celebration of conflicting emotions.
After a year full of performances, rehearsals, social media, songs, and self-doubt, suddenly there is silence.
Or rather, the loud pressure to be "contemplative" now.

December isn't just Christmas time. For many musicians, it's also something of an invisible reset button.
Because when you go back on tour in January, are in the studio, or are preparing your releases, you need one thing above all else: technical and organizational clarity.

Honestly, who hasn't been there?

At first, it sounds like a nice idea:
"I want to release my song before the end of the year."

Maybe you've been working on your music all year. Maybe it's a personal track. Maybe you're thinking, "If I don't release it now, everything feels incomplete."

But December is not a normal release month.
People are tired. Feeds are full of mulled wine, snow photos, and gift ideas. Playlists are dominated by Christmas songs—and even the biggest names are fighting for attention.

So what should you do if your release is still scheduled for December, or has to be?
Here are three clever strategies you can actually use:

When the year comes to a close, something magical opens up:
The time between the years, known as the Rauhnächte, is for many merely a spiritual phenomenon. For me, it has become a powerful space for artistic clarity.

For years, I have been working with musicians who doubt their direction. Who don't know what their next step is.
And I always say: "The answer doesn't come from doing. It comes from listening."
And that's exactly what the Rauhnächte are for.

December is more than just lights, mulled wine, and last-minute stress.
It is a turning point, also (and especially) in the music business.

Many musicians experience this month as tough or "lost." Hardly any gigs. Little reach. No feedback from organizers. And inside, that quiet question:
"What has this year actually brought?"

If you work as a freelance musician, one sentence is particularly difficult to say:
"No, that doesn't work for me."

Why? Because we have learned that opportunities are rare. That you have to be grateful. That you should always be available for gigs, collaborations, booking requests, feedback discussions, content productions and promo campaigns.

It took me a long time to understand:
Every yes to something that isn't right is a no to yourself.

You've written a song, recorded it, mixed it and now it's finished.
But how do you get it out into the world?
And how do you stay with yourself while making it visible?

For many musicians, this is precisely the biggest challenge in the music business:
How can I market my music without burning myself out or becoming an advertising robot?

Especially as an independent musician, perhaps from Munich or somewhere between the USA and Germany, the topic of music promotion is often associated with pressure. But visibility doesn't have to be fake.

Many musicians know this feeling: you're about to perform, your hands are shaking, your heart is racing - and suddenly you just want to leave. Even though you've been rehearsing for weeks. Even though you love your songs.

I often hear this in my music coaching sessions:
"Why am I so nervous, even though I want to be a professional?"
And then I say: Stage fright is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of importance.

It has become quiet. The release was a few weeks ago. The posts are out. The comments have died down. And then it comes - this quiet thought:
"I should post something again."

Maybe. But maybe not.

We live in a music business that celebrates output. More reels. More content. More visibility.
But your music doesn't need more visibility - it needs depth.
And sometimes depth comes from silence.