I participated in my first art show last April.
And honestly, it changed something in me.
It was the first time I’d ever put my paintings out into the world for people to actually see. Not on a screen. Not tucked away in my home and kept to myself.
It was there. Displayed on the racks.
And so was I. Walking around the room. Meeting other art lovers. Talking with other artists. Seeing people pause to look at something I made.
What touched me the most was hearing the positive feedback from other artists. There was something so special about another artist looking at something I’d created and genuinely appreciating it. It made me realize just how much I’d been hiding.
Maybe there was some fear of being seen or maybe there was a part of me that didn’t quite believe I had earned the right to call myself an artist. I always struggled with that.
A few months before the show, I was at Michaels buying supplies when the cashier asked me if I was an artist. I stumbled over my answer. Think I said “not professionally”. In my mind, I wasn’t really an artist because I wasn’t getting paid for it. And, I had never really said the words out loud before.
I’m an artist.
It felt strange. But after the show, it didn’t.
I knew. Something shifted.
The best way to describe what shifted was that I finally gave myself permission to just be me. To play. To not be perfect. To follow an idea without knowing where it was going. To make something without immediately wondering whether it was good enough.
That’s what my first show really gave me: permission to be me and stop hiding.
There’s something incredibly vulnerable about allowing people to see what I’ve made. Even more so when what I’ve made feels like a little piece of me. But I’ve realized that being seen isn’t necessarily about having everyone understand me or approve.
Sometimes it’s simply about being able to say:
This is something I love.
This is something I made.
This is who I am.
For years, I couldn’t quite say those things.
Now I can.
