Why I do this work
Dear writer,
I don’t believe you need to be fixed. I believe you need to be heard.
So many of the creative humans I work with come to me feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or afraid that their best work is behind them. Some are recovering from burnout. Some are navigating trauma. Some feel like they’ve lost the creative thread altogether.
I’ve been there—and I don’t say that to sound cute or perform relatability. I know what it’s like to feel as if the hardest, darkest parts of your life have the most say, especially over the brightest places inside you, where things like creativity tend to reside.
I know what it feels like to want to make something, but not know how or where to start—or to fear what might come up when you do.
I know what it’s like to be frozen by perfectionism—or its strange cousin, completionism.
And yet, what I’ve seen again and again is this: change is possible.
What I've learned, both firsthand and alongside others, is that it’s possible to be on good terms with the hard stuff. We can allow our past experiences, even the traumatic ones, to inform, but not dictate, both what we make and how we make it.
In the tender space of one-on-one creative mentorship, people learn to trust themselves more—both their preferences and their impulses. They begin to cultivate their own inspiration and motivation. They stop waiting to be chosen or struck by lightning, and start feeling more in charge of their creativity. (The muse is fine and all, but I’m more a fan of self-reliance.)
My clients build gentler relationships with their parts—not just metaphorically, but from an IFS perspective, as we practice seeing old patterns and protective mechanisms through radical compassion.
Some of the most moving transformations I’ve witnessed have involved watching clients reclaim their voice, their stories, their authentic pacing, and their creative needs. Because you, dear writer, are allowed to be an artist and to have needs. Yes, even big ones.
This is why I do this work: To help you remember about your own creative capacities; and then, to hold space for you to begin putting them to beautiful, meaningful use.
Having an easeful, abundant, and flexible relationship with your creativity is your birthright.
Because your real life is your creative life.
Which means it’s never too late to return to your full artistic self.
Love,
S
