Art Journal Entry No. 47: Learning it’s Safe to Be Myself

I was originally going to write about Art Journal Entry No. 46, about feeling overwhelmed and warming to calm myself by painting something soft. But this morning I realized something else was underneath that.

My shoulders sit lower here. Art Journal Entry No. 47.

I’m finally getting more comfortable sharing this softer side of me, the one who paints flowers and hearts.

Painting each morning feels like reconnecting with the kid version of me before I learned to mask myself. The kid who made sandcastles out of mud at the beach and could spend hours doing it. The same one who loved twirling a ribbon tied to a stick, and who colored makeup with my crayons onto a paper doll I made, just because it felt good to create “pretty eyes,” complete with the heavy blush and eye shadow popularized by 80s fashion.

I knew I was different growing up. I didn’t have many friends. I learned quickly that parts of me needed to be tucked away if I wanted to fit in. So I tucked them away.

In doing that, I lost access to the childlike, playful nature inside of me. What replaced it, over time, was a kind of anger I didn’t fully understand. With judgment from peers and adults, I learned to watch myself closely.

Since I was fourteen, I had been hiding parts of who I am. And when you hide long enough, something turns inward. For me, that looked like depression.

Depression doesn’t always look like sadness for me. It often shows up as anger directed at myself. As being harder on myself than I would ever be on anyone else.

Art has helped me process that. These Studio Notes help me slow down. They give shape to what’s happening inside. And the truth is, medication has helped too. It has helped immensely.

I feel more like myself lately. My shoulders sit lower. I can breathe a little easier. There’s less urgency to hide or correct who I am.

What I’m trying to say is simple.

It feels safer now to be myself.

And that feels new.