I consider myself a fairly creative individual. But I haven’t always thought that about myself. In fact, I assumed I wasn’t artistic at all when I was younger.
You see, in elementary I hated art class. I liked drawing and painting. But my 2nd grade art teacher was a horrible woman. I don’t say that lightly. But she really emotionally scarred me.
There’s one particular instance that sticks out in my memory like there’s a spotlight on the event. Her assignment for the class was to paint a field full of beautiful flowers. The medium: water colors. I spent the next hour pouring my heart out on the paper painting my masterpiece.
When the time was up, I was excited to show her my art. I knew I’d get the satisfied nod and gold star from her; I got that from all my teachers. But once she approached my painting, she said this one phrase with a gruff scowl that seared pain into my heart. She said, “Why are there green flowers here? Flowers aren’t green.”
Dejected, I painted over my green friends with pink or some other boring color. But that criticism solidified in my mind that I wasn’t creative. I wasn’t an artist. I better stick with math.
It wasn’t until late in high school and early college that I finally realized I might be more creative than I once thought. It took me a while to fully admit it, though.
Then a few years ago I came across a flower shop and wandered around. What did I see? I saw green hydrangeas. Green flowers.
I’m not sure I can express the vindication I felt inside me at that moment. I immediately grabbed my phone and took a picture. I posted the picture on Instagram with the caption, “Green flowers DO exist. Take that, Ms. Eastman. Your art class was full of lies!”
I felt a little guilty shortly after I posted it, realizing Ms. Eastman had probably already died. I’d held a grudge my whole life against a lonely old lady who’d never been successful in the art world herself. I’d allowed her one criticism to set the course for much of my life. Perhaps it was time I let it go.
I’ve discovered many of the things we hear people say about us when we’re young are lies. Well-meaning adults can decimate a child’s heart and give them a false perception of themselves.
So I ask you: What do you believe about yourself that may be false? Maybe you’re more creative than you thought. Maybe you can be anything you want to be. Maybe you aren’t a bad singer.
Don’t let lies you were told as a child define you. There are green flowers. I can prove it.
