How to Not Get Your Shit Together

In March of 2017, I was struggling. Which is a strange thing to say. I somehow can’t remember a time I wasn’t struggling with something. Usually, it was financially. But, for the first time since I left home at eighteen I actually felt comfortable living with the income I was making. My boyfriend and I both worked full-time jobs in skincare and even though we didn’t see each other much (despite living together) we weren’t surviving paycheque to paycheque. In the world of grown-up aspirations, this is pretty much considered a huge success.

I was struggling in a different way. 2017 had been terrible and it was barely two months in. Six days into the year my mother passed away. A close friend in my friend group was in a car accident and died. Another close friend’s uncle passed away suddenly. All at once, I was surrounded by grief, both my own and those around me.
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When To Start

It’s a problem.

Art is a beautiful, nebulous creature. Tantalizingly out of reach. In my life, art has always been the epitome of “Tomorrow, Not Today” It’s been something I’ve visited, done, then had to abandon for more realistic ventures more times than I can count.

When I was young, art was fun until it was frustrating. The more I drew, I felt like, the worse things turned out. I would go hard for about six months, then slink back into a hole of shame before I could truly embarrass myself. Over the years I have had many different art styles.

The story I’m telling could be any one’s for how common I feel like it is. But that doesn’t make it less true.

The idea of not living up to the potential others saw in me was almost unbearable, so instead of failing, it felt better to attempt then escape. I felt, secretly, that I was lazy. I felt that I wasn’t passionate enough about this to really make a go of it.

Now I know a bit better.

I hadn’t lived enough life to have a chance at being truly good at something that mattered so much. I needed to learn patience for other people before I could apply it to myself. I needed to heal from various things in my past. I needed to learn how to manage not only people but also myself, and eke out a work ethic that could carry me through to a self-motivated business.

I needed to care more about the message then the vehicle to give me the bravery to start.

I can’t predict this time will be successful. But I think I am more ready than I’ve ever been. I know the things listed above to be true. I also know that art is a journey of self-reflection and can be healing in its own right.

I am not too old to start. It is never too late to start over again.