I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on all the projects I’ve ever cast on. Not every one was the home-run I hoped for. Some were complete flops; others, outright mistakes. As a knitter, of course I take rejection of my work personally—especially when it’s something I made as a gift.
So today, I want to share my thoughts on why it’s so important to knit for the right reasons.
1. Who Are We Crafting For
My answer to this question has changed dramatically since I first started knitting. In the beginning, I felt like everything I made had to be useful—something for the family, something practical.
And strangely, that didn’t include me.
My early Instagram feed was filled with projects for my kids or my husband. Rarely did I make something just for myself. Sure, I had plans to, but it took me years to follow through. When I finally did, I made a beautiful cabled sweater in a yarn I loved.
But in the end? I gave it to my daughter. The sweater just didn’t feel like me. It turns out I was trying to recreate a sweater I had loved as a teenager—but I couldn’t even remember the exact design. That project taught me an important lesson: sometimes it’s not even the pattern that’s the issue—it’s the yarn, the color, the fit, the feel. I’ve since learned that I have a style, and it’s okay to honor that.
2. If You Do Knit For Others, Be Sure They Appreciate Your Time
One of my hardest lessons came from knitting a project for someone who didn’t appreciate it. Not only did the finished item not fit, but the yarn weight was wrong, the fabric stretched out, and the seams were too visible.
I wanted to fix it. I tried to explain what went wrong (including the fact that I used the yarn they chose). But instead of working through it together, they accused me of making something subpar on purpose. They compared what I made for others to what I made for them, and they demanded an immediate remake.
Meanwhile, I had spent months on that project—juggling it with a shoulder injury and all of my other responsibilities.
Now? That project feels like an obligation, not a gift. I’ll finish it eventually (I even bought the correct yarn), but the joy is gone. And I’ve promised myself: I’m never putting myself in that position again.
I craft because I want to, not because I have to. And if I choose to knit something for someone else, it’s on my terms.
lanning and I cast on when I’m ready to and if I really want to.
3. It’s Okay To Be a Selfish Knitter
Oh, how I wish someone had told me this from the start.
After that painful experience, I made a choice: I’m becoming a selfish knitter. With one exception—a loved one who truly appreciates my work—I’m knitting for me now.
And honestly? I’m excited. I look at my stash with fresh eyes. Projects I once imagined for others, I now see as pieces of my future wardrobe.
The truth is, most people don’t understand the time, effort, or skill that goes into handmade pieces. And that’s okay. But I’ve learned that my creative energy is too valuable to waste on ungrateful recipients.
So yes, I’ll still make things for my family—but only when I’m ready and excited to do so.
4. It’s Okay to Like a Style of Knits and Yarn
When I first started knitting, I had no idea what I liked. I picked up yarns because they were affordable or “nice.” I didn’t know if I preferred cables or simple stitches, bulky yarn or fingering weight.
Now? I know I love saturated colors and textured designs like cables and slipped stitches—even if I don’t always wear them. I gravitate toward rich hues that suit my complexion. And I’ve made peace with the fact that pastels just aren’t for me.
There’s no right or wrong here. If you love acrylic, go for it. If you prefer natural fibers, explore those. The point is: your stash, your rules. And if you’re curious about something new, try it. Just leave the yarn snobbery at the door—nobody has time for that.
5. Don’t Let Perfectionism Hold You Back
In the beginning, I was obsessed with doing things the “right” way. I’d watch YouTube tutorials and try to mimic every movement exactly—how to hold the yarn, how to increase, how to decrease. It was frustrating. Exhausting. And totally unnecessary.
Thankfully, I also had books—my true lifeline. When YouTube didn’t click, I’d go back to my books and figure things out my way.
So if you’re struggling with perfectionism, let me say this clearly:
There is no “right” way. Your way is the right way.
Knitting is an art. Your art. And your style might look different from someone else’s—but that doesn’t make it wrong. Be proud of where you are and how far you’ve come.
In Conclusion: Knit from the Heart
Knitting is more than just a hobby—it’s a deeply personal expression of time, care, and creativity. Whether you’re casting on for yourself or someone else, it’s important to do it from a place of joy, not pressure. I’ve learned—sometimes the hard way—that not every project needs to be perfect, not every gift will be appreciated, and not every yarn will be the right fit.
But every stitch still teaches me something.
So knit what makes you happy. Use the yarn that makes your heart skip a beat. Make mistakes, try new things, and most importantly—remember that you don’t owe your time, energy, or artistry to anyone who doesn’t value it.
This craft is yours. Own it. Enjoy it. And never forget—you’re allowed to put yourself first, one stitch at a time.
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