Softness & Blocks: What I’m Learning About Creating While Healing

I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while because it’s something I think many of us go through — and it feels honest to share where I’m at right now with it.

Lately, I’ve been carrying what I can only describe as a strange kind of block around photography.
The thing is — photography is all I want to do. I have so many ideas, so many shoots I want to try, so many pieces I want to create.
But every time I try to move toward actually making those images, my body pulls back. The energy drains. The anxiety shows up. I freeze.

At first, I thought maybe I was just tired. Or being lazy (that old voice again).
But the more I sit with it, the more I realize that this block is not laziness at all. It’s a protective response.
Because right now, I’m doing some of the deepest healing work I’ve ever done.
I’m in the third week of TMS therapy. I’m working through layers of trauma in psychotherapy. I’m trying to peel back a lifetime of masking and survival patterns to find my true autistic self. I’m also participating in an Indigenous healing group — which, while powerful, has also been triggering and left me unsure whether it’s the right space for me at this time.

At home, I feel safest — in my own space, in my own rhythm. But even there, I often feel crowded or overburdened energetically. And photography — especially the kind of work I do — is not just photography. It’s self-portraiture. It’s reclaiming my body, my voice, my gaze. It’s allowing myself to be seen.
And for someone whose softness was hidden for most of her life for survival, that’s incredibly vulnerable work.

Recently, I tried to give myself more space by booking a hotel room. I thought — maybe if I physically create a larger, empty, safe space, my body will feel free to create again. And I’m here now, in that room.
But even so, the block is still present. There’s a lot of uncertainty, a lot of nerves. A part of me that is terrified of opening fully into that vulnerable creative space while still mid-healing.

I’m learning that these blocks aren’t failures. They’re not signs that I’m broken or that I’m not “trying hard enough.”
They are messages from my body that say: we are doing so much already. We need more time. We need more space. We need to trust this new life before we leap too fast into being seen again.

So for now, I’m trying to honour that.
I’m doing gentle arrival rituals when I come into new spaces.
I’m writing, reflecting, checking in with my body.
If a shoot emerges naturally from that — wonderful. If not, I trust that it will when the time is right.

I wanted to share this because I think so many of us carry shame when we can’t “just create.”
But the truth is — healing is creative work.
Building a new life is creative work.
And sometimes our blocks are not meant to be forced through — they’re meant to be listened to.

I’m reminding myself (and maybe you too):
Softness is not weakness.
Rest is not failure.
The pace of your healing is not a problem to be solved.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear how you’re navigating it in your own life.
And thank you, as always, for being here and witnessing this process with me.
It matters more than you know.