If only they’d known. So much of what shaped us was never meant to. They were doing their best with what they had, and still, those small moments landed the way they did. But here’s what I keep coming back to: you get to be the one who knows now. For her, and for that six-year-old in you. Thank you for being
Oh Lynn, I love this so much! So full of truth and it spoke directly to that little one in my own heart, who was so much like your small self, trying to get it right, trying to make mother happy, longing to be seen.
What a precious story Lynn. I can smell the paint, the paper, the colored pencils. I can see the towering supply shelves. The leaf for flair. And oh, how your mother probably hurt at the thought of only doing lessons for one. We do internalize those moments and craft them into something they were never meant to mean. But what a joy that you have corrected the story and rejoined your art. And given the art its own space separate from the business. It sounds like a new beginning 🤗❤️
You felt all of it. The paint, the paper, the leaf for flair. And yes, you named something I keep sitting with: the story we craft from a moment that was never meant to mean what we made it mean. My mother in that memory was probably carrying her own ache. We don’t always get to know. But we do get to go back and tell it true. A new beginning is exactly what it feels like. Thank you for seeing it. 🤗
I feel this in my soul and in my bones. Thank you for sharing. My six year old sees your six year old with a shy smile. My 40yo sees my own shy, creative, 6yo daughter. And 20 years later, I'm starting to (re)discover my art.
That’s the whole thing. We don’t lose her. She just learned to go last for a while. And here you are, twenty years later, picking up the brush again. Nothing has gone wrong here. Welcome back.
Ah so beautiful. If only.....if only our parents knew what simple acts would impact our lives. If only.....Thank you....
If only they’d known. So much of what shaped us was never meant to. They were doing their best with what they had, and still, those small moments landed the way they did. But here’s what I keep coming back to: you get to be the one who knows now. For her, and for that six-year-old in you. Thank you for being
Absolutley!!!!
Oh Lynn, I love this so much! So full of truth and it spoke directly to that little one in my own heart, who was so much like your small self, trying to get it right, trying to make mother happy, longing to be seen.
Maybe that's how healing happens. One woman tells the truth, and another whispers, "Me too."
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for sharing. This spoke to the little girl in me. ☺️🥰
I’m so glad it reached her. That little girl has been waiting to be seen, and here you are, listening. Keep going. She has so much she wants to make.
What a precious story Lynn. I can smell the paint, the paper, the colored pencils. I can see the towering supply shelves. The leaf for flair. And oh, how your mother probably hurt at the thought of only doing lessons for one. We do internalize those moments and craft them into something they were never meant to mean. But what a joy that you have corrected the story and rejoined your art. And given the art its own space separate from the business. It sounds like a new beginning 🤗❤️
You felt all of it. The paint, the paper, the leaf for flair. And yes, you named something I keep sitting with: the story we craft from a moment that was never meant to mean what we made it mean. My mother in that memory was probably carrying her own ache. We don’t always get to know. But we do get to go back and tell it true. A new beginning is exactly what it feels like. Thank you for seeing it. 🤗
I feel this in my soul and in my bones. Thank you for sharing. My six year old sees your six year old with a shy smile. My 40yo sees my own shy, creative, 6yo daughter. And 20 years later, I'm starting to (re)discover my art.
That’s the whole thing. We don’t lose her. She just learned to go last for a while. And here you are, twenty years later, picking up the brush again. Nothing has gone wrong here. Welcome back.