“Expressing myself” has, for many years, meant writing. Until recently, I’d put aside a true love of mine: drawing.

I always drew as a child. I let this hobby go as I grew older and felt I couldn’t produce a valuable, monetizable piece of work, so why even try?

In the interest of dissolving my perfectionism, I decided to start a little project. I would draw something every day. I would draw whatever wanted to be drawn, and let it be imperfect, messy, weird, ugly, or bad.

At this point, I’ve drawn more than a few pieces. Through this process, I’ve come to understand that creating simply to create is a beautiful, freeing act. It is a way of engaging with my inner child, who never cared for perfectionism, only her imagination.

It wasn’t my intention, but each time I sat down with a black pen and a blank lined page, what came through was not just art, but emotional catharsis—a visualization of all the emotions within me at that moment. So I decided to also write down all the emotions I felt while drawing or after completing the drawing.

The drawings are all just me—no preparing, erasing, fixing. Sometimes, I loved the result; sometimes, I didn’t, and that’s okay.

If you scroll down, you’ll find my drawings. I’m sharing them here because it’s a bit scary to open myself up to judgment from others, and also because I feel like posting them anyway. Maybe someone will connect to the drawings and the emotions I’ve identified with them, too.

Cheers, my dears.