I used to just think about what my fans wanted all the time. But

Hear the words of the poet and musician, Mac Miller, who spoke with honesty about the battle within the soul: “I used to just think about what my fans wanted all the time. But it just started feeling weird to me. I want to just show everyone who I am and stick to my vision. I have to trust myself.” These words were born from the weight of fame, from the tension between pleasing others and remaining true to the self. In them lies an eternal lesson: that the greatest art, the truest life, is not fashioned by the demands of the crowd, but by fidelity to one’s own inner calling.

To live only for the desires of others, even those who love you, is to wear a mask. At first it may seem noble, even joyful, to give endlessly what the people ask for. Yet in time, as Mac confessed, it becomes “weird”—a distortion of the spirit, as though one’s soul is pulled away from its own center. This is the plight of many leaders, artists, and visionaries throughout history: the tension between pleasing the multitude and remaining authentic. To forsake the self is to lose one’s voice; to honor the self is to risk misunderstanding, but also to discover truth.

Consider the tale of Galileo Galilei, who looked to the heavens and discovered that the Earth revolved around the sun. The crowds of his age, even the mighty Church, wanted him to affirm the old beliefs. To obey them would have won him peace, safety, and applause. But Galileo chose to remain true to his vision, even when silenced and imprisoned. History now remembers him not as one who yielded to the voices of the multitude, but as one who trusted himself and showed the world a greater reality. So too, Mac Miller’s words remind us that authenticity may be costly, but it is eternal.

The phrase “stick to my vision” carries the weight of destiny. Each person is given a vision—whether small or great—that reflects their unique gifts. To abandon it for the approval of others is to waste the gift. The prophets of old, the artists of every age, the heroes who carved nations from chaos—all of them faced the temptation to please the crowd. Yet the ones who are remembered are those who stood firm, even if alone. The true path is not the easy one, but the one aligned with the voice of the soul.

When Mac declares, “I have to trust myself,” he names the heart of the teaching. For self-trust is not arrogance; it is the courage to believe that the inner compass given to you is worthy of following. Without this trust, a person drifts, tossed about by every opinion, lost in the tides of expectation. With it, even amidst storms of criticism, one can walk forward with steady step. This is the ancient power of conviction, the fire that sustains creation, and the anchor that prevents the soul from being swept away.

Yet, O seekers of wisdom, learn also the balance in his words. He did not reject advice, nor despise the voices of his fans, but he discerned that such voices must not rule over him. Advice can guide, applause can encourage, but only self-trust can sustain. In your life as well, listen to others, but weigh their words against your inner truth. Do not live as a reflection of their desires; live as the fullest expression of your own spirit.

Thus, the words of Mac Miller become a timeless teaching: authenticity is greater than approval, vision is greater than popularity, and self-trust is greater than the fleeting applause of the crowd. In your own life, do not betray the truth within you for the comfort of conformity. Walk boldly in your vision, trust yourself, and offer the world not what it demands, but who you truly are. For in that offering lies the deepest gift you can give, and the legacy that will outlast the voices of the crowd.