(Re)painting My Destiny

On the 8th of November, 2014, life was good. I was living on a farm in the Australian countryside, enjoying a sustainable lifestyle, restoring a heritage garden, and tending to a small flock of sheep. All this while working my dream job as a child care trainer and travelling to amazing destinations regularly while doing so. Truly, on the 8th of November, 2014, I could not have asked for more from life.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. Little did I know then that the following day would change my life forever. The 9th of November was the day of my car accident, the day that left me with spinal and pelvic injuries causing years of chronic pain, and the day that scarred me with PTSD and depression.

The years to follow were bleak. The medications meant to help me left me in a constant state of confusion, and I was no longer able to work. The fit, healthy, vibrant person I had once been was left wondering what sort of future, if any, lay ahead.

Monthly reviews with doctors and medical professionals all stated that I had no capacity. I think that if anyone hears these sorts of things month after month without fail, they will inevitably begin to believe it. I was no longer a person; I was a medical condition, an injury. I lost my identity.

But I was determined not to succumb to the pain. It took years of fighting and lengthy sessions with psychologists, but I believed in myself; I knew I had the capacity for something, even if I didn’t know what that looked like.

I’d always been creative, so one day, I turned to a local craft group, where I met like-minded creatives I could connect with. This led me to take a watercolor class in 2018. Slowly but surely, with the help of these positive spaces, I found my identity through art.

I noticed a funny thing while I was painting—the pain seemed to stop. It was still there, of course, as my injury has never really gone away, but it didn’t feel like it. I found my capacity… I could paint!

This was a game changer. I no longer identified as a person with a disability, but as an artist. I was astounded to see that people liked what I created, and purchased my artwork.

Creating art is now an important part of my daily practice; for me, it’s a form of therapy. It keeps me grounded, focused, and at peace, and it helps push the pain and the disability out of focus. Some days I paint to create, but most days I simply make marks on the paper for my own sake, no end product in mind. My art is therapeutic because I focus my love and attention on the process, not the product. The process is meditative, and it calms me down like nothing else can.

I am now grateful for my injury. I no longer let it define me, but instead see it as the catalyst that introduced me to art and mark making. Through art I am repairing my mental health, drawing my stories onto paper, and repainting my destiny.

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