How I Rediscovered Drawing in My 40s

A Quiet Christmas Reflection

There’s something about Christmas Eve that invites reflection. The lights are soft, the world slows down a little, and suddenly there’s space to think about who you’ve become — and who you still want to be.

A few years ago, I would never have called myself an artist. I’d stopped drawing somewhere between school deadlines, motherhood, and the endless busyness of life. But the urge to create never really left. It just went quiet for a while.

?? Picking Up the Pencil Again

It started small. A cheap sketchbook, a handful of pencils, and the thought: What if I just tried?

At first, my lines were wobbly and awkward. I compared myself to others (of course I did). But something magical happened — I felt calm. Present. Like I’d found a version of myself I’d lost years ago.

Drawing became a form of meditation. I wasn’t chasing perfection; I was chasing peace.

? Creativity Without Pressure

Rediscovering drawing in my late 40s has taught me that creativity doesn’t have an age limit — or a rulebook. It doesn’t need to make money, impress anyone, or even be “good.”

Some days I draw animals in scarves. Other days, wildflowers. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the feeling — the quiet hum of joy that happens when your hands move and your mind finally stops racing.

? What I’ve Learned Along the Way

You’re never too old to start again. Creativity isn’t a phase — it’s a part of who you are.
Play beats perfection. The magic happens when you stop trying to get it right.
Art heals in unexpected ways. Some days, drawing is my therapy more than my hobby.
It’s okay to be a beginner again. In fact, it’s freeing.