The road to rediscovery

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From as little as 2 I have loved creating little artworks. First came the crayons, then pencils, pens, paints… I was drawing buzzards and peregrine falcons from bird books at the age of 9. Throughout secondary school I doodled in class books half-listening to the teacher. At age 14 I was able to sketch mediocre portraits of friends and family, turning to celebrities and youtuber’s during my late teens and the inevitable procrastination from GCSE’s and A levels. 

At university I moved on to other craft activities that occupied my right-side brain, again as a distraction from study and everyday life. I bought a keyboard with money saved up over Christmas, an instrument which I’d been teaching myself from the age of 7 as my family couldn’t afford lessons, learning covers of songs through YouTube tutorials and playing by ear. In first year I used my library printing credit to print out typography and outlines of images which I cut out and used as a stencil, arranging on £2 mens t-shirts from Primark and printing on them with fabric paints. I liked the idea of making something similar to a high-street purchase but without the two-figure price tag. I painted and embroidered on jeans and listed them on Depop, bought cheap clothes from charity shops and invested in a sewing machine to alter and recreate my purchases in second year.

During lockdown I have frantically thrown myself into creating anything and everything that I can with what we have at home. I have made copious amounts of scrunchies, face masks and candles, tried my hand at making lip balm and made a few bucket hats from a bag of denim someone had put out for the rubbish collection and I nabbed upon impulse. I even made a dress last week.

Polymer clay earrings are next on the agenda.

I’m aware anyone reading this will think I’m doing too much, why not just one hobby? I am surely going to short circuit and burn out from filling my days from 9-5 with activity after activity, going to sleep, waking up, beginning again, not giving myself a break because I don’t know what I’d fill it with. Probably. You are a gemini after all, my mum says, never satisfied and constantly jumping from one thing to the next; I have to keep moving or else I get bored. But I have taken some time to reflect, to dig deep inside myself to find the root of my actions, aside from the horoscope-led conclusions which tell me this is just who I am. I have come to conclude that things I am doing, I am not doing them because I am trying to be good at everything, because I am bored or unsatisfied with my work.

I have lost my sense of self-worth. It has been gone for years, and I am desperately trying everything I can to find it again.

At university, I made the mistake of giving myself to somebody. Not just my body, but all of me- my mind, my soul, my sense of self, my complete identity. See, it really is so easy to give yourself up to someone, to put all of your happiness into them, to make them the centre of your universe, so that nothing else that made you feel like that before matters. And then that person leaves. And you are left with nothing. 

Things you cared for that made you happy in the past have no appeal to you anymore, even something so simple, like watching the sunrise in the morning and feeling the warmth of it on your face. Like going for a coffee in the park with friends after class. Like practicing a sport, or playing an instrument. Like making your favourite meal and taking time to enjoy it. The little magic which comes from the things that you enjoy, that makes you shine, that makes you… you. Upon losing that, other things begin to slip away. The will to go to class, turn up to meetings, hang out with friends, eat three meals a day, answer texts or calls from loved ones, take a shower, get out of bed. It is easier for these things to disappear unnoticed when you have already surrendered a big part of yourself, the rest isn’t such a big deal.

Whatever ignites that little fire that keeps you going, please hold it close and no matter who or what threatens to come between it and you, do not let go. And if you have, it may take some time to get your magic back. But that’s okay. I have been trying to find myself again for two years, to rediscover what makes me tick by trying my hand at different things, be it crafts, dusting off my old piano, getting my favourite baking books down from the loft and trying out some new recipes. I am starting to see joy in things like sorting out my wardrobe, FaceTiming with friends or just sitting down to read a book I’m interested in, which a few years ago would have seemed like a chore rather than an activity worth my time. Yet, I still haven’t picked up a pencil or unpacked my paints since I gave up that part of myself. But that’s okay. It took months to lose myself to a stranger, but it has taken me years to reclaim little pieces of what made me, me. And that’s okay. I can feel that little flame inside my chest, however small it may be, and that’s what keeps me on my path to rediscovering the old friend I haven’t seen in so long. Me.

by Shanna Read