Confidence has always been a challenge for me.|
In school, I struggled. I just couldn't process information. It was like I hadn't heard a thing the teachers had told me.
One teacher in junior school even thought I was deaf because she thought I wasn't listening.
But amidst the chaos, there was one place that always felt like a sanctuary—my grandparents' home. My great-grandmother, an artist, had left her mark everywhere. The walls were adorned with vibrant paintings, each bursting with colour and life. I would sit quietly, mesmerized, as time seemed to stand still.
I felt completely absorbed in the beauty around me—captivated by the colour, texture, and movement she had created. In those moments, I felt calm, focused, and at peace.
I didn’t know it at the time, but that was the moment the seed was planted—the quiet, unspoken dream that one day, I would become an artist too.
As I got older, the struggle didn’t get any easier. Even into my 20s, sudden changes left me feeling overwhelmed. When things didn’t go as planned, or when my emotions took over, I’d often break down in tears, feeling like a failure for not being able to handle it all.
Years on and I now know that I have a processing disorder. I have come to terms with my problems and am able to share my story.
But for years, I kept it all inside. I didn't know how to explain why I struggled.
There were times I felt embarrassed and frustrated, especially when I couldn't express myself the way I wanted to.
Fast forward to today: I Paint. And through painting I have discovered a freedom I never thought possible.
Art has allowed me to be myself I don't have to 'get it right'. I can explore, make mistakes, enjoy the process - without the pressure to be perfect!
It hasn't been an easy path to follow. The dream of being an artist was buried under layers of self-doubt and confusion. There were years of silence, years where I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Even though I felt a pull toward it, I was scared.
It wasn't until I was 32 that I fully embraced my passion for art. I don't know whether it was being pregnant with my first child which did it but I could ignore the urge no longer. So that is when it began.
It has taken me a long time to even call myself an artist but through painting, I have discovered a freedom I never thought possible. What started as a way to release the tension and frustration inside me became my form of self-expression.
It was no longer about trying to explain myself—it was about showing myself. And in that act of showing, I began to understand who I really was.