How Creative Self-Expression Became a Way to Get Back to Myself

There was a time when I felt like I was moving through my days with earbuds in but no music was playing. On paper, everything looked fine. I was keeping up with my responsibilities, showing up for the people I love, staying busy in the way women often do because we’ve been trained to be reliable above all else. But inside, I kept waiting for my spark to return, as if it were something I had misplaced.

It took me longer than I’d like to admit to recognize that I wasn’t doing anything “wrong.” I was simply drained. I had been pouring out more than I was taking in, making myself smaller so that I could fit inside a version of life that didn’t leave much room for my inner world.

There was no dramatic breakthrough, just a tiny tug inside that urged me to pay attention. It began as a quiet sense that I needed to reconnect with the parts of myself I had ignored. That feeling nudged me toward creativity.

Not the kind that demands mastery or applause. I mean the kind that feels like exhaling. The kind that loosens your shoulders and reminds you that you’re more than your to-do list. The kind that quietly invites you back home to yourself.

This is the path that helped me soften and begin to feel like myself again. And it’s the path I want to share with you.

Why Women Over 35 Feel Called Back to Themselves

Something shifts as we move through our mid-30s, 40s, and beyond. We accumulate years of experience, responsibility, grief, triumph, caretaking, and reinvention, often without pausing long enough to breathe. Many of us live in this service mode for so long that we don’t notice how disconnected we’ve become.

We often know how everyone else feels.
We rarely ask how we feel.

Creative self-expression gives us a moment to breathe. It’s not about doing. It’s about noticing what stirs your curiosity, what soothes you, what you’ve outgrown, and who you’re becoming next.

At Year to Bloom, I often talk about seasons. Creativity became the doorway into a softer chapter of my life. A slowing. A peeling back of layers without judgment.

How Creativity Found Me When I Needed It Most

I didn’t go searching for a creative practice.  One night when I was feeling restless, I grabbed a notebook, not because I had something profound to say, but because I needed somewhere to put the heaviness.

What came out wasn’t polished or intentional. It was uneven and raw, but it was mine. And for the first time in a long while, I felt a little more present.

From there, I explored in small ways. I took photos. I made tiny scribbles on the backs of old grocery lists because that’s what was within reach. I rearranged corners of my home so they felt like cozy sanctuaries. All of it was simple. And all of it mattered.

Little by little, creativity became the permission slip I didn’t know I needed. It allowed me to slow down instead of push harder.

Why Creative Expression Supports Healing

Healing through creativity works because it’s grounding. When you create you slip out of survival mode and into presence. Your mind settles. Your body eases. You reconnect with yourself in a way that feels safe and honest.

Here’s what begins to shift:

You build awareness.
Your feelings surface gently, often through colors, shapes, or words you didn’t plan.

You regulate your nervous system.
When I create, my shoulders drop, as if my body suddenly remembers it doesn’t have to be on guard.

You cultivate joy and curiosity.
Even tiny moments of playfulness can be surprisingly healing.

You rebuild trust with yourself.
You realize your inner voice never left; it’s simply been waiting for space.

How to Begin Your Own Creative Healing Practice

If the idea of being “creative” feels overwhelming, hear this: you don’t need to be artistic. You don’t need skill or confidence or a plan. Creativity isn’t a performance. It’s a practice of paying attention to what’s alive inside you.

Here’s how to begin:

1. 1. Give yourself a few minutes to try one small thing.

Write whatever comes to mind.
Sketch something ordinary.
Take photos of colors or textures that catch your eye.

And on the days when your mind feels scattered?

When I created Radiant Wings and Blooms, I imagined women who were tired but still trying. The shapes and florals became a place for me to land when I couldn’t quite find my footing. Coloring something already outlined removes the pressure to “create” and allows you to simply follow the lines.

2. 2. Let your work be imperfect.

Creativity is about honesty, not perfection. Let your lines be crooked, your colors bold or muted, your words messy. Your expression doesn’t need to impress anyone.

3. 3. Pay attention to how it feels.

Notice what rises as you create.
Calm? Frustration? Relief? Uncertainty?
Every emotion carries information, and creativity helps translate what your inner world has been trying to tell you.

4. 4. Turn it into a rhythm, not a task.

Choose one small moment each week and make it yours. Maybe it’s Sunday morning with tea, or a few minutes before bed. Treat it as time you keep for yourself, no explanation needed.

5. 5. Keep what you create.

Even the pieces that feel insignificant. Over time, your pages, sketches, and colored images become a map, a visual record of where you’ve been and how far you’ve traveled.

What Shifted for Me, and What Might Shift for You

Creating regularly didn’t turn me into someone new. It helped me return to someone I had forgotten. It taught me that healing doesn’t require pushing harder, it requires meeting myself with honesty and care. And most importantly, it reminded me that I’m allowed to take up emotional space. I believe the same is possible for you.

An Invitation to Begin Your Own Season of Creative Healing

This is the heart of Year to Bloom: honoring the seasons of your life, allowing yourself to grow at your own pace, and tending to your inner world with the same care you offer everyone else.

So, here’s your invitation:

Choose something simple.
Let your creativity speak in whatever way it wants to.
You don’t have to be ready.
You just have to begin.

You deserve to bloom. Your story is still unfolding, and it’s far from finished.

Robin