The side of art that can be incredibly intimidating, the part that most people think about before they even attempt to create anything, is the audience. Who's going to view it? Read it? Judge it? And is there any chance that these anonymous individuals can relate?
The major problem with worrying what other people think is there are so many of them. Whether it's your oldest friends, your work colleagues, or perhaps everyone in your Facebook feed—they're all going to have varying opinions. Attempting to satisfy one is a lot of work, but to please every single person you've ever encountered? That's impossible, and it's going to cripple a lot more than just your creative process.
So where does that leave you? If you've actually managed to tune out the potential criticism of the world (which is not an easy feat), now what? How do you proceed from there?
As daunting as having an audience might be, there's nothing quite as terrifying as making the art you want to make in spite of it. Because suddenly, you're the judge of what's good and what's not. You have to be the one with taste, and differentiate between something that's fabulous or simply fluff. You're not just an artist, you're your own greatest critic. And that's a hell of a lot scarier than worrying what someone else might think.
The upside of being your own worst critic is that if you love something you've made—if you're truly and completely enamored by it—it won't matter what anyone else thinks. If you put your heart into something, and someone else doesn't like it or doesn't get it, it's not really that big of a deal. But when someone else does love it, when someone else actually gets where you're coming from, that's satisfaction that can't be compared.
The only person holding you back in this world is you. If you want to blog, or write, or paint, or draw, or do anything that brings out your creativity—just do it already. Damn the audience, trust your instincts, and rest assured that at least one person will appreciate all your hard work—you.