A Star Is Born (and It’s Not Me)
by Galit Garzón
There’s a moment in every project when I know it’s ready.
Not because it’s perfect, but because it finally stops belonging to me.That’s the point when the brand, the idea, or the person I’ve been building with starts to breathe on its own. It finds its rhythm, its voice, its audience. People see it, connect with it, talk about it.
And I quietly step back.
Because the truth is: a star is born, and it’s not me.
It’s the work.
The quiet power behind the spotlight
I think a lot about visibility in the creative industry.
Everyone wants to be seen, and that’s fair. But the real magic often happens off-camera, in the spaces where no one’s clapping yet.
As a creative director, my job isn’t to be the star.
It’s to build the conditions for someone else to shine: a founder, a team, a brand, an idea.
It’s shaping the vision, holding the standard, asking the hard questions, and then disappearing so the work can speak louder than I ever could. It’s not glamorous. But it’s deeply fulfilling.
Ego is the easiest thing to build — and the hardest thing to edit
In this industry, it’s easy to confuse visibility with value.
But I’ve learned that the most powerful creative decisions often happen in silence. not in meetings, not in presentations, but in the small, consistent acts of guidance that never make it to social media.
You don’t have to be the loudest to lead. You just have to know when to step forward — and when to step away.
The art of stepping back
Watching a brand find its own voice feels a lot like watching someone you love grow up.
You’re proud. You recognize pieces of yourself in it.
But you also know it’s not yours to control anymore.
And that’s what great creative direction really is:
not ownership, but orchestration.
Not spotlight, but structure.
So yes — a star is born.
And it’s not me.
It’s the work, the vision, the team, the idea that finally stands tall enough to be seen.
And honestly? That’s the only kind of fame I’m interested in.
