When I was seven years old, I drew a picture of myself with bright yellow curls, a long orange dress, and a big smile, holding up a piece of art. Above it, I wrote, “When I started school I always wanted to be a teacher. I was born in 1983. I’ve always liked to draw and do art.”
Looking back now, I can see how clearly that little girl already knew what she loved. Long before I understood what it meant to build a life or a career, I had already named my true joys. I loved making art and sharing it with others.
Somewhere along the way, many of us are taught to question those early knowings. We’re encouraged to be practical, to choose what’s safe, to turn down the volume on the very things that light us up. But joy has a memory. It never really forgets.
For me, creating and teaching have always gone hand in hand. I feel most alive when I am painting something that feels true, or when I am guiding someone else into their own creative flow. Whether in the studio or the classroom, I return again and again to that same childlike impulse. I want to make something beautiful and share it.
This drawing reminds me that following our joy isn’t a luxury. It’s a kind of remembering. It’s a return to the voice within us that always knew.
If you’re not sure what that is for you, try asking your younger self. She probably has something to say.
At a local event nearly 20 years later, continuing to walk the creative path I had chosen as a little girl.