Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Will Johnson. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Will, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.

The most meaningful projects I’ve ever worked on wasn’t just a “projects”—they was a part of me. They are a part of me. If you knew what I had to survive to create them, you’d understand that it wasn’t about ambition. It was about survival. It was about reclaiming my voice in a world that had tried, over and over, to silence it.

These projects were born in the aftermath of a season that nearly broke me. I was carrying the weight of unresolved trauma—grief from relationships that had shattered me, family wounds that ran deep, and the ache of trying to find belonging in spaces that never truly saw me. I had been silenced, dismissed, gaslit, betrayed—and for a while, I truly thought I had nothing left to say. Nothing left to give.

But silence is never really empty. It’s pregnant with truth. And somewhere in the quiet, something began to stir.

I started creating—not out of inspiration, but out of necessity. I poured myself into this work like it was the last thing I would ever do. Every decision I made was a conversation with my inner child, my past self, the version of me who was still trembling in the dark. I built it piece by piece from the rubble of who I used to be. Every texture, every word, every moment in it—was honest. Brutally honest. I didn’t care if it was palatable. I only cared if it was real.

These projects taught me that beauty and pain can coexist. That truth doesn’t need to be polished to be powerful. That what breaks you can also build you. It invited others to look at their own scars and see art, not shame.

It became meaningful not because of how it was received—but because of who I had to become to finish it. I had to dig through every buried emotion, hold every fragment of memory, and breathe life into them as something new. I had to face myself. And in doing so, I didn’t just create something—I reclaimed something.

To this day, these projects hold my heartbeat. They carries the fingerprints of everything I’ve endured, everything I’ve loved, and everything I’ve become. They are the most honest things I’ve ever made. And if you were to open it up, you’d find me—raw, unfiltered, and free.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland, where I spent the majority of my life soaking in the rhythm of the city—its rawness, its resilience, its poetry. Then, during my high school years, I transitioned to Pennsylvania. That shift was more than just geographical—it was spiritual. It was in that quieter, more isolated place where I turned inward and really locked in. That’s when I became hyper-focused on Acting, Writing, and Creating—not just as hobbies, but as lifelines. As ways to make sense of everything I carried. As ways to live.

Creativity didn’t knock politely on my door—it demanded to be let in. And once it was, it never left. I found a home in storytelling. In performing. In translating emotion into something tangible. In creating work that could hold people the way I longed to be held.

Now, through everything I create—whether it’s a performance, a written piece, or a space I curate—I offer something real: a sense of home. A place that doesn’t feel hollow or performative, but full. Human. Honest. I provide a safe space—through words, through presence—where people can breathe, feel, and be.

Because the world can be heavy and disconnected. People are hungry for something they can feel in their chest. That’s what I offer: connection. Truth. Healing through storytelling. My words don’t just land—they linger. They stay with you. I speak for the version of you that never had the words. I write and create from that raw, untouched place that we’re often taught to hide—and I do it without shame. That’s what makes it powerful. That’s what gives it weight.

The services and creative work I provide—whether it’s writing, acting, consulting, or creative direction—are rooted in depth. In emotional resonance. In authenticity. I help people feel. I help them feel seen. Whether I’m helping someone shape their own story, collaborating on a project, or performing a piece that holds generations of feeling—I bring my full self to it. I don’t do shallow. I don’t do surface. And people recognize that.

What sets me apart isn’t just my skill—it’s my intention. It’s the why behind the work. Every word, every gesture, every frame or sentence or scene is meant to mean something. And it does. Because it comes from a place that’s lived. Felt. Earned.

What I’m most proud of is that I’ve stayed true to that. That I’ve created from a place of truth, even when it hurt. That I’ve offered people something that doesn’t just entertain, but transforms. That my work has helped others find language for their own stories. That I’ve been able to make something sacred out of the broken parts.

For anyone discovering me for the first time—know this: what I create is not for spectacle. It’s for soul. It’s not for hype—it’s for healing. I offer work that feels like a mirror. A warm room. A deep breath. Something that reminds you you’re not alone.

This isn’t just what I do—it’s who I am.

Are there any books, videos or other content that you feel have meaningfully impacted your thinking?

Books have been some of my greatest teachers—silent guides that reshaped how I observe, interpret, and move through the world. The Four Agreements in particular had a deep impact on me. It cracked something open in me. It taught me that integrity with my word, detaching from other people’s projections, and choosing clarity over chaos wasn’t just a way to live—it was a foundation for how I create and operate in every space I step into. That book, and others like it—especially poetry books that hold soul, silence, and truth in the same breath—showed me the depth required to really see the world. They reminded me that to create something meaningful, something that touches people beyond the surface, I have to be willing to go all the way in. To observe with more than my eyes. To listen between the lines. To feel what most people rush past. Those kinds of books didn’t just influence my mindset as a creative or entrepreneur—they helped me understand the kind of energy I wanted to bring into everything I build. They taught me how sacred it is to be intentional. How powerful it is to slow down and pay attention. They made me realize that if I want to make work that really matters, I have to live in a way that honors depth, presence, and alignment. I don’t just want to be someone who creates—I want to be someone who remembers. Someone who reflects. Someone who leaves behind work that feels like it came from a soul that paid attention.
So yes—resources like The Four Agreements, poetry that dares to be honest, and writing that feels like it was pulled from the bones have deeply shaped how I manage not only my work, but my life. They’ve taught me that success isn’t just about building something big—it’s about building something that’s true.

Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?

Yes—absolutely, there is.

I’m not creating just to be seen. I’m creating to leave something behind. Not for fame. Not for recognition. But for impact. For meaning.

My goal has never been to make sure people remember my name. What matters to me is that they remember what I stood for. That something I created, said, or offered found its way to someone who needed it—someone hurting, someone searching, someone trying to hold on. If my work can be a hand to hold, a mirror, or even a quiet reminder that healing is possible, that’s the legacy I want. I want to build something that outlives me. Something good. Something honest. Something someone else can use to help others—just like I’ve tried to. I want what I leave behind to feel like a seed: rooted in truth, ready to grow in whoever finds it. So yes, that’s my mission. To leave the world a little softer. A little deeper. A little more human—because I was here.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thoughtsbyking/

Image Credits

Will Johnson + Cast/Crew