Every video I've made has an inspirational message behind it.

In the gentle yet purposeful words of Michelle Phan, we find a philosophy of creation that transcends the digital age: “Every video I've made has an inspirational message behind it. Since day one, I thought, ‘Okay, I want my audience to be, like, Disney members.’ So if that's the case, I have to keep everything rated G.” At first glance, her words may seem simple — the musings of an artist who crafts content for the young. Yet beneath their simplicity lies an ancient truth: that true influence carries with it a sacred responsibility, and that to inspire others is to guard their hearts as well as awaken their minds.

In the modern temple of screens and voices, where countless creators chase attention and acclaim, Phan’s words rise like a hymn of restraint and purpose. To declare, “Every video has an inspirational message,” is to claim one’s art not as vanity, but as vocation. Like the poets of old who believed that their songs could heal, she views her craft as a form of service. She does not create to provoke or to shock, but to uplift, to weave light into the vast fabric of the digital world. Her vision of the “Disney audience” is not childish — it is idealistic in the truest and noblest sense: a vision of purity, wonder, and shared imagination unmarred by cynicism.

From the earliest days of civilization, the greatest storytellers understood this sacred balance between beauty and virtue. The mythmakers of ancient Greece, the poets of China’s Tang dynasty, the sages of India — all knew that stories shape souls. Consider Aesop, who told his fables not for the amusement of the court, but to plant seeds of wisdom in the hearts of the young. The fox, the lion, the crow — these were not mere animals, but mirrors of human morality. So too does Michelle Phan, in her own time and medium, cloak her teachings in artistry. Her “inspirational messages” are not moral lectures, but quiet revelations — the reminder that beauty without goodness is hollow, and that the truest art uplifts both the maker and the beholder.

The decision to remain “rated G” in a world that rewards provocation is itself an act of rebellion — the rebellion of gentleness. It is easy to shock; it is far harder to inspire. It is easy to entertain; it is far harder to edify. In this, Phan walks a path once trodden by the philosopher-educators of old, who guarded the moral climate of their societies as fiercely as generals guarded their cities. By choosing to preserve innocence rather than exploit it, she aligns herself with the timeless guardians of light — those who understood that art is not only reflection, but formation.

And yet, her wisdom is not cloistered or sterile. When she speaks of her audience as “Disney members,” she evokes a world where imagination and morality coexist — where dreams are not divorced from discipline. Like Walt Disney himself, she recognizes that the most enduring stories are those that awaken both laughter and conscience. For what is the power of the storyteller, if not to show that wonder and virtue can dwell in the same heart? The brightness of her vision stands as a counterbalance to the noise of a culture that too often confuses darkness for depth.

Her words invite us to reflect upon our own creations, whatever form they take. Whether we craft videos, write words, raise children, or build communities — each act leaves a mark upon the world. The question she poses silently to us is this: What spirit do you leave behind in your work? Is it confusion or clarity? Vanity or virtue? Like the master artisans of antiquity who carved beauty not for praise but for posterity, we too must craft our lives with intention.

Thus, let the lesson be this: to inspire is to serve, and to serve is to care for the hearts of others. Create as though children may one day inherit your work. Speak as though your words will echo in tender ears. In every art, choose kindness over cruelty, substance over spectacle, purpose over popularity. For the world, though vast and loud, still hungers for gentleness. And when you create with that spirit — as Michelle Phan has done — your light becomes a sanctuary for others, a reminder that inspiration and innocence, like art and truth, are never out of style.