Here's my  truth:  Being an artist was not part of my life plan. 
I spent the most part of my early career completing a psychology degree.  It was incredibly fascinating and the career possibilities were limitless.  However, my soul grew restless.  Then, at 26, I discovered paint-by-numbers.  I picked up a paintbrush, and something magic happened.  Art bridged the gap between my clinical studies and my creative desires.
I was a hobbyist at the time, and my 'pragmatic brain' convinced me that I should continue my degree. 
Then life happened...I got married, I became a step-mum, we built a house.  My artistic outlet took a backseat for a while.

It was in my 30s that my journey took an unexpected turn. 
My husband and I had been undergoing IVF together and it had taken its toll on my body.  After many exhausting months, we decided not to continue.  It took awhile for my body to recover and during this time I did some soul searching. 
I needed to find purpose and I give myself permission to change direction.  Part of this involved making a decision about my career in Psychology.  I had spent years investing in my degree.  I couldn't give it up...could I?

They say what you resist persists...and it's true.  You cant force a square peg into a round hole.  I decided to pick up a paintbrush again.  I painted, smudged, inked and collaged to my hearts content.  
Art brought me what I was craving:  connection, healing, creativity and freedom.
My portfolio grew and it dawned on me that art was more than just a hobby.  I had decision to make. A decision to follow my heart and choose a different path.