If you’d told me ten years ago that I’d be running a seven-figure art business, teaching thousands of people how to draw with coloured pencils, and waking up every day feeling deeply happy I wouldn’t have believed you. Because it took me 22 years to find myself again.

Back in 2015…well, probably even before then my life felt like it was unravelling. I was stuck in a difficult marriage, juggling a demanding job and raising my children, all while battling constant anxiety. I felt completely squashed. Like the real me had disappeared.

And I know I’m not alone in that. So many of us lose ourselves under the weight of life. We stop listening to who we are and start living as who we think we need to be for everyone else.

The Christmas gift that started it all

What I didn’t realise then was that the path back to myself would start with a Christmas gift. A simple colouring book and some coloured pencils from my daughter. I opened them up on Christmas Day, and something inside me lit up. I was hooked. Obsessed. Those coloured pencils weren’t particularly fancy, but they gave me something I hadn’t felt in years…peace.

How coloured pencils became therapy

Those early drawings felt like therapy. Not in a dramatic way, just in a gentle, healing, grounding way. Every time I sat down to colour, the noise in my head softened. I stopped spiralling. I started breathing again. Slowly, I began to remember who I was.

I’ve always had this deep-rooted belief that things will eventually be okay. That faith carried me through the darkest times, even when I was on the verge of losing my home, even through grief, divorce and all the uncertainty that followed. That, and a healthy dose of Yorkshire grit. As my dad used to say…I’m stubborn. And sometimes, stubborn is exactly what you need to be when life tries to knock you down.

Finding courage, one coloured pencil drawing at a time

Through it all, creativity was the lifeline. Drawing brought me back to life. It gave me confidence when everything else felt shaky. It helped me remember that I’m not shy, not quiet, not invisible. I’m bold. I’m joyful. I’m me. And art helped me see that again.

These days, I get to teach others how to rediscover themselves through drawing. And I get to remind people, every single day, that you don’t have to be brilliant to begin, just brave enough to start.

So if you’ve put your pencils down, or if you’ve never picked them up at all, this is your permission. Permission to try. Permission to play. Permission to be you.

Creativity isn’t about perfection. It’s about finding your way back to yourself. One pencil stroke at a time.

And if I can do it, this ordinary Yorkshire woman with dogs snoring under the table and laundry piling up in the kitchen then so can you.