The Messy Middle (aka: The Part No One Talks About)
My Healing Art Story, Part 2:
2023
This blog is part of a series - check out part 1 if you haven’t already. Thanks for reading!
If you’ve read Part 1, you already know the year everything fell apart - my body, my career, my sense of self. What I didn’t know then was that art was about to become the thing that helped me rebuild.
But before I ever called myself an artist… before I ever thought about teaching… before Inner Peace Art Studio even existed…I was just a girl who was exhausted, in pain, overwhelmed, and desperate for something - anything - that made me feel human again.
And I didn’t think art had anything to do with it. Not even a little bit.
“I’m not an artist.”
“I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”
“Art is for talented people.”
If you’ve ever said any of that, hi — so did I. I truly had no idea that art could help my health. None. I just wanted:
Something to get me out of my head
Something to distract me when my stomach hurt
Something to hold onto when the anxiety was so loud it felt like static in my chest
Something to do on the nights I couldn’t sleep
Something that didn’t demand energy I didn’t have
So I started where a lot of people start:
I signed up for online classes. I followed watercolor accounts on Instagram. I watched artists paint little blobs that somehow turned into flowers. I googled, I lurked, I learned, I played.
And ugly truth? My art was ugly. At least, that’s what my inner critic kept screaming.
The Inner Critic Stage (aka: The Hardest Part)
The messy middle wasn’t the paint or the many splatters on my floor… it was the thoughts.
You’re not an artist.
You suck at this.
Why are you even trying?
You’re wasting time.
You’re not creative.
I had to learn how to tell my inner critic to shut up - literally. That voice was the biggest barrier between me and the calm I desperately needed. But somewhere between the messes, the experiments, and the “what the hell is this supposed to be?” pages… I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time:
Relief. Not perfection. Not pride. Not talent. Just… relief.
The First Signs of Healing
At first, I didn’t even realize what was happening. But over time I started noticing big things:
My heart rate was lower when I painted
My anxiety was less intense
I was occupied when my body was in pain
My mind slowed down when everything else felt chaotic
My nights were calmer because my sketchbook was there
My nervous system finally had an outlet
I started to understand something that would change my entire life: The process itself is healing. Not the product. Not the outcome. The process.
Getting fully absorbed in color. Making marks. Moving paint around. Letting something inside me finally come out. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t skillful. It wasn’t “real art.” But it was mine. And it was saving me from myself at one of the darkest times in my life.
Art Became the One Thing I Could Still Do
When I couldn’t go out anymore… When my body said no to everything… When I was too sick to move off the couch… When I was running to the bathroom, nauseous, exhausted, or terrified…
I still had my sketchbook.
It was this tiny island of comfort in a life that felt like it was constantly shifting under my feet. Sometimes it was just a pen and paper in bed. Sometimes it was a messy page at the art desk. Sometimes it was a scribble. Sometimes it was hours of painting because it felt like it was bringing me back to life.
It didn’t matter what it looked like. I always felt better after. Always.
Even now - as I go through yet another chronic illness issue - my sketchbook is still the thing I reach for at 2am when sleep won’t come.
Expanding My Practice: When One Modality Wasn’t Enough
After a few months, I discovered expressive arts. Not just painting. But:
Journaling
Poetry
Music
Collage
Movement
Prompts
Layering emotions into color and words
It was like opening a door into a world where healing wasn’t linear or quiet - it was messy, honest, expressive, and real. Using multiple creative modalities hit every single part of my life - mentally, physically, spiritually. I finally understood why art has existed since the beginning of humanity:
Because we need to express ourselves.
Because what doesn’t get expressed gets stuck.
Because creativity is human.
The Truth No One Told Us
Society lied to us.
Art teachers lied to us. Perfectionism lied to us. The wellness world lied to us. Productivity culture lied to us.
They told us:
Art is for the talented
Creativity is a luxury
Only certain people get to create
It has to be “good” to matter
None of that is true. Not one single piece of it.
Art is for healing. Art is for everyone. Art is for you.
The Moment Everything Shifted
The more I healed through art, the more I realized:
I needed to understand everything I could about expressive arts, mindful art, and creative healing. And eventually - after studying, training, experimenting, and building my own practice - that path led to Inner Peace Art Studio.
But it didn’t start as a business. It didn’t start as a program. It sure as hell didn’t start as a plan.
It started as me, sick and overwhelmed, with a sketchbook in my lap… trying to find one small thing that helped me breathe again.
And it worked.
What I Want You to Know
Art might not fix your life. It won’t cure chronic illness. It won’t erase all of the grief or stress or overwhelm.
But it can give you:
A place to put what hurts
A way to soothe your nervous system
A portable sanctuary
A moment of peace on an impossible day
A sense of empowerment when everything else feels out of control
A spark of joy you didn’t know you needed
For me, it saved my life. And continues to do so today. Truly. And I believe - with my whole heart - that it can transform yours too.
Not because your art is “good.” But because you deserve a way to express, release, and breathe.