Creating Happiness

“You know you won’t win the 4-H contest, don’t you?” My mother asked as she cut the fabric of a summer shirt.

“Why not?” I was confused by her question. I knew it wasn’t guaranteed that I would even earn a place in the competition, but it would be a blue-ribbon cherry on top if I did. I was looking forward to strutting down the mall’s mezzanine in the outfit I made for myself, mostly by myself. I imagined how proud I’d be in the 60’s style lime green A-line tank and striped clamdiggers, carrying my doll, Molly, in her matching duds. It wouldn’t be easy, but I had been practicing sewing clothes for my dolls, making increasingly complex garments. Plus, my mom would be there to help me with the hardest parts, like the zipper on the pants.

“The other kids will be older and have more experience sewing, and yours won’t be nearly as nice.” The sting of her words snapped me out of my reverie.

She continued. “I don’t want you to be disappointed because you won’t win anything. Now, is that going to upset you?”

Tears welled in my eyes. Of course, it was going to upset me. It already was upsetting me.

My mother took my lack of an answer and my tears as a yes. “Then you shouldn’t worry about entering. I’ll return the fabric and pattern to the store. Hopefully, they’ll take it back.”

I nodded before leaving the sewing room to cry with Molly. We wouldn’t be showing off on the mall runway. We wouldn’t share a fun new outfit. We weren’t good enough, so we shouldn’t even try.

______

My official diagnosis is Complex PTSD and Major Depressive Disorder. The strangest events will trigger a painful memory and cause me to freeze as the scene replays vividly. Enjoying hobbies is an elusive goal, made possible only when properly medicated and I take adequate care of myself. Therapy is an absolute must to process my past and maintain emotional functioning.

______

“Do you enjoy sewing?”

My therapist and I were discussing the crushed dream of entering the 4-H contest as a factor in my self-critical talk and defeated attitude toward creating. My therapist’s question startled me, and I responded almost automatically, “Of course I do! I’ve been sewing for years, ever since I was a little girl.”

“No, really think about it. What do you like about sewing?”

“Well…” I trailed off, trying to discern if I only thought I did because my mother was a seamstress and I actually wanted to impress her. “Cutting the pattern and fabric is fun. I like getting in a rhythm with the machine and watching the fabric move through. And it’s nice to customize whatever I’m making for myself.”

She nodded as she made a note in my file. “Would you say that it makes you happy?”

I nodded.

“Now think back to the little girl who was discouraged by her mother. How would you share your hobby with her, and encourage her?”

“Um…” Reparenting my inner child always felt awkward. “I guess I’d help her sew that outfit with her, and I’d tell her it was ok to not do things perfectly…”

“What else?”

“That mistakes happen, but you can usually fix them.” An epiphany dawned. “I’d tell her that’s why they made seam rippers! Because everyone messes up once in a while.”

“Wonderful! So, how can you bring this wisdom to your creative endeavors now?”

Reparenting myself again, only this time my present self. “I guess I’ll remind myself that mistakes don’t define the whole project. And remind myself of what I love about whatever it is that I’m doing.”

______

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. Even though I had purchased extra yardage, the familiar anxiety tried to take control as I held the orange handled scissors over the cotton, poised to cut. I put them down to check the pattern again. Remember the seam ripper. A mistake doesn’t mean it’s worthless. Just enjoy creating.

I picked up the scissors again, this time smiling to myself as they made the comforting sounds that marked the start a garment coming into being. ______

Happiness isn’t awarded arbitrarily. It’s created. It’s created in the moments of quiet concentration and the hours when I stop focusing on the outcome and become enmeshed in the process. It's created when I heal the hurts of the past.