You Are Loved: the thought process

“You’re imperfect, and you’re wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.” – Brene Brown 

You Are Loved – original painting, prints, and note cards available in my shop 

I want you to remember the last time you felt loved. Perhaps it was today (if so, lucky you!), or perhaps there’s an extra special memory you have that outshines the others. What does that love feel like? Does the memory make you smile?

Now, when was the last time you showed love for yourself?

When I first started to paint You Are Loved, I hadn’t yet done many paintings. I felt rusty, insecure, and quick to judge myself. I was afraid to take creative risks because I kept comparing myself to other artists, and so I began this painting with all of those fears rattling around in my head.

I began a simple landscape, but wasn’t satisfied. The colors weren’t right, the shapes not dynamic. Yet I was afraid to mess up what I’d already painted.

At this point, I felt stuck.

So I thought, okay Elizabeth, what is the worst that can happen if you don’t like this painting? You cover up the paint and start again? That’s not so bad, is it? 

And so I made a conscious decision to play, letting my pencil move freely around the sun until it resembled no sun I’ve ever drawn before. A sun I never would have drawn had I stayed afraid. I LOVE this sun. Love the energy and color and shape, all of which already existed inside my mind but were unable to come out until I took a risk.

While I didn’t see it this way at the time, being gentle on myself while creating this painting was an act of love. Allowing myself the freedom to play, the possibility of making mistakes: also love.

In the context of a painting, these are small gestures. Yet this was a wonderful reminder for me how love is often a series of small, uncomplicated gestures. Love means a morning hug. Reading books together before bed.

Love always weaves into the details, when you look closely.

Once I was happy with the sun, I began to take more creative risks: blending multiple colors into the grass and adding in bright pops of color for the flowers. I love the freedom created here, the sense of soothing calm.

And once I showed myself that act of love, gently accepting any future mistakes so I could keep moving forward with the painting, I recognized that the painting had always been about love. Here is the reminder that we need when faced with little daily rejections, judgments, comments, or fears. The reminder that little acts of love can be powerful gifts for family, friends, and even ourselves.

This is what love looks like to me – calming and colorful and imperfect.

Now I’d love to hear from you. What does love look like in your life? Perhaps there are small gestures you do to let your family or friends know you care. Tell me one example in the comments below.

xo,