When I was 13 years old, I drew a picture of a sunflower that I was deeply proud of.
My dad, however, thought it was a super unrealistic drawing and he told me, over and over again, how very, very ugly it was, showing it to everyone around, telling anyone who’d listen.
When I was 13 years old, I sat in our dining room, with my picture and I felt shame.
Such.
Deep.
Shame.
From that moment on, I “knew” that drawing, being creative, expressing myself in that way was unsafe, was harmful and I started to believe that I simply had no talent for drawing.
So, obviously, I only ever picked up a pencil and a sheet of paper when I absolutely had to (hello dreaded art classes!).
I got knots in my stomach every time someone asked me if I could draw; I would never even sketch an animal for a child, always saying that “no, I can’t draw. I don’t know how to. I’m so very untalented.”.
And I believed it. I mean, I knew it.
Sound familiar?
In fact, if you’ve been listening to the podcast for a few years, you’ve probably heard me mention to Deb how I admire her talent and how I could never be creative like that.
I believed it. I mean, I knew it.
Deep down.
I knew that drawing was not something that belonged into my life.
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
Enter Johann.
5:45 am.
Saturday, October 26th 2019.
We’re both wide awake.
He woke me, naturally.
Mommy, I want to get up. Let’s get up. I am not tired anymore.
Mommy, please, get up. I want to do something. Get up.
And up we got.
If you’re a parent, you know that those early weekend mornings can streeeeeeetch.
He wanted to watch TV, naturally.
I said no (and noooo, I’m not that parent who doesn’t let her child watch TV in the mornings. I’m pretty relaxed when it comes to that, but not today.)
Nope.
Today, this morning, I wanted to draw.
I wanted to create, to use colors, to try and fail and try again.
I wanted to finally be the parent that says YES when her son asks her to try drawing an alien, a Triceratops or whatever combination of beings he likes that day.
So, we got some colors, took out a few sheets of paper and we began to draw.
And, oh my God, we had so much fun.
Crazy awesome fun.
He loved it. I loved it. The hours just flew by.
Yes, I did some drawings here and there in the last few years. Yes, I tried, but always feeling unworthy, always feeling ashamed.
This morning it felt great.
I felt great.
Not everything turned out the way we imagined it would, but the more I let loose the better the pictures got.
This morning, this deep belief, this knowing that I CANNOT draw was allowed to leave my neurology.
The 13-year old girl who was so proud of her sunflower was allowed to come back up and heal.
The 13-year old girl who’d been waiting for almost 20 years to feel joy again while expressing herself with colors, with a pencil, in one of the simplest, yet most profound ways of creating, got to dance with life again.
This morning, this 13-year old girl said F**k it to her dad, gave him the finger and did it ANYWAY.
… and she lived happily ever after.
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
Kinda.
That’s how it goes though.
Trauma doesn’t leave the body, even if you forget the trauma ever happened.
In fact, I hadn’t even thought of that sunflower picture until this morning. I hadn’t even known why I thought I couldn’t draw.
I didn’t know, but my body knew.
The entire time.
And the moment I was ready, my body, my Unconscious, presented me with the opportunity to become aware, to reflect and to let go.
Powerful. Simple. Deep.
No, transformation like that doesn’t happen out of the blue, it happened to me because I’ve been doing deep work for years now.
My ground for healing is lush and prepared.
And yet, how freaking cool is it that when you’ve laid the groundwork, true transformation happens in an instant?
How. Freaking. Cool.
And the best part? It can totally happen to you too!
Why?
Because YOU can MAKE it happen.
So, if you’re ready to experience and create similar breakthroughs like mine, send me a message and we’ll get on a call: anne-sophie@annesophie.us
I’m limiting my new clients to 1-2 a month for personal reasons right now, so don’t wait if you feel the nudge. These openings will be gone soon.
