When Do You Start Actually Calling Yourself a Filmmaker?

It happens every time: someone asks me what I do, and I take that small, awkward breath before answering. “I’m a filmmaker.”

There, I said it—but it always feels like I’m cheating somehow. The same thing used to happen when I would say I was a writer. Sure, I’ve won awards for my writing, been paid for it, and spent countless hours agonizing over dialogue and story arcs. But when does it become okay to actually own the title? When does “I write” evolve into “I’m a writer”?

It’s the same with photography. I’ve been that guy who brings a camera everywhere. I take hundreds of photos, some of which I’m genuinely proud of. Still, I’d hesitate to ever call myself a photographer. It feels too big a claim—too official, too deserving of validation I’m not sure I’ve earned.

And yet, here I am. I’ve made several films. I’ve seen my work win awards and be screened at festivals. I’ve been paid to produce films for others. Filmmaking has slowly evolved into my full-time profession. By all accounts, this should be enough to confidently say, “I’m a filmmaker.”

So why does it feel so hard?

The Weight of the Label

Part of it is how the labels themselves are abused. I’ve met people who’ve been “working on their first book” for decades, and yet they proudly introduce themselves as novelists. I’ve seen friends make a single short film with buddies and suddenly adopt “filmmaker” as their identity. It’s not about gatekeeping—it’s about how these titles carry meaning. Just because you want something, does that mean you get to claim it? If I’ve decided I’m running for President, does that make me a President?

These are the mental games I play with myself. On the scale of success, I feel like I’m still a little fish who doesn’t even know the direction of the big pond. Major studios don’t know my name, and most people have never seen my films. How can I call myself a filmmaker when there’s so much further to go?

But Wait…

Here’s where I contradict myself: maybe it’s exactly this kind of thinking that holds people back. If I’ve made a cake, I’m technically a cake maker, right? If I decide to make cakes full-time, shouldn’t I claim that title and lean into it? By calling myself a filmmaker, I’m not just stating a fact—I’m manifesting a mindset.

Think of it like this, you don’t need to know exactly how you’ll get where you’re going—you just need to start walking in that direction. Claiming the title isn’t about arrogance; it’s about setting the intention and giving yourself the momentum to keep going.

Perception Is Reality

If someone makes a short film with friends, and only those friends ever see it, it’s still fair to call themselves a filmmaker. They made a film. They put in the work. And if they decide to pursue filmmaking full-time, who am I to say they can’t claim the title?

The more I think about it, the more I realize how much of this is about perception—not just how others see you, but how you see yourself. By embracing the label, you’re embracing the responsibility that comes with it. You’re saying, “This is what I do, and I’m going to keep doing it.”

Owning It

So here it is: I’m a filmmaker. I make films. Some have been successful; many have been overlooked. But I’m proud of the work I’ve done, and I’m excited about what’s next. Calling myself a filmmaker doesn’t mean I’ve “made it”—it means I’m still making it, one project at a time.

If you’re struggling to claim a title for yourself, remember: it’s not about the destination. It’s about the work. If you want to be a writer, keep writing. If you want to be a photographer, keep taking photos. If you want to be a filmmaker, keep making films. The title doesn’t make you—the work does.

And who knows? Maybe someday I’ll feel confident enough to call myself a cake maker, too.