I was lucky to have well-meaning, loving parents. But being young and anxious about parenting their first child -- a small, shy, somewhat gawky, sensitive kid -- it felt like the unintentional, underlying question was, “She's different, is something wrong with her?”

I was a born artist – another “difference” according to society. And unsafe on, oh, so many levels! In my family, art was fine as a hobby only. NOT a serious career.

Plus, art (like math) was mom's territory. She had given up her beloved career as a mathmetician to be a stay-at-home mom, a choice that didn't fulfill her or make her happy. To escape, she took evening painting classes and art soon became a great source of pride.

So, instead of me being "me" and pursuing art, I dimmed my light. It didn't feel right to shine too brightly at something that came so easily to me. To a sensitive kid like me, it felt dangerous.

What if I threatened mom? What if I became a better artist? My "job" in the family was to read everyone's emotions. I was supposed to lift people up -- not do anything that could possibly hurt their feelings!

Ultimately, hiding the true me became the unspoken rule I lived by... for decades.

But life always seems to find a way to force our true nature out into the light.

In February 2022, shortly before a trip to Florida to see mom and dad, I warned a friend that once I returned, I’d be quitting the ceramic classes we’d taken together for the past few years. When I began the classes, it felt safe to quietly dip my toe into clay because mom didn't do ceramics at that time (she only started later after seeing my work).

As I told my friend the news, I felt certain life was guiding me to direct all my energy into a new online project and quit distracting myself with “unimportant” stuff like art. At least, that's what I thought...

But during that February 2022 trip to my parent's, BAMMM!, life gave me real guidance I couldn't ignore.