My Latest Sewing Project
I wish life would slow down just a little. Every day feels like the same cycle—wake up, morning routine, rush to work, come home, evening routine, collapse, and repeat. Yes, there are moments of joy tucked in between, but the pace never really lets up. And with work becoming more demanding, it feels like all the dreams I quietly carry just keep getting bigger and more vivid… while I’m still only one person trying to hold everything together.
Sometimes I think about expanding my family, and my heart aches. I don’t know how I’d navigate all of this with another baby. I miss my mom—not just her presence, but the version of her that was healthy enough to guide me through womanhood, motherhood, and all these transitions. I long for community I can trust, for work that brings joy, for a life that doesn’t feel like I’m constantly sprinting. And now I finally understand what my mom meant when she said she just wanted peace. She wasn’t wishing for ease—she was tired of suffering because life had already been hard enough.
In the middle of all of that, I try to make space for my creativity. I remind myself to keep a sketchbook alongside my students. I finished a 30-day creative sketchbook challenge with Danny Gregory and then another with Charly Clements. I even took on a sewing project—an entire McCall’s top. And wow… it was a journey. Tangled threads, endless issues with nesting, tape that damaged the fabric, a zipper I couldn’t figure out, everything. My test fit was perfect, but once I committed to the final version, the top turned tight around the bust and the arms, and the torso feels too long.
I keep staring at the finished piece wondering: Is my sewing machine the problem? Or is this just part of learning a new craft? Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe it’s just life reminding me that progress rarely feels clean or confident while you’re in it.
But even with the frustrations—even with everything happening at once—I’m still proud of myself for trying. For creating. For learning. For dreaming. Even when life is heavy, the creative parts of me refuse to disappear. And maybe that’s its own kind of peace.
