04/01/2025
I don’t even know how to start this post because, honestly, I feel embarrassed. I’ve been avoiding this account for a long time—not just because I’ve been inactive, but because I’ve been afraid. I’ve said ‘I’m back’ so many times that it feels meaningless now. Every time I promise to restart, I end up disappearing again, and each time, it gets harder to come back. At this point, I feel like I’ve let everyone down—especially myself.
The truth is, I’ve been struggling. With my art, with my confidence, with the pressure to keep up. That feeling of failure makes it even harder to pick up my needle or sort my beads. At some point, I stopped making art for myself and started making it for validation. My art became a product, not a safe space. And when life got hard, it didn’t feel like medicine anymore—it felt like another expectation I was failing to meet.
2024 was one of the hardest years of my life. I struggled with my relationships, my mental health, my financial stability, housing, addiction, and grief. I lost a very special childhood friend to addiction and because of that I found myself lost. For months, I didn’t create at all.
But I don’t want to stay stuck in that. I don’t want art to be a burden. I want it to be a part of my healing again. So I’m returning—but not with pressure, not with expectations, just with the simple intention to create. I want to return to my roots, to ceremony, to community. I’m making a jingle dress in hopes of dancing this powwow season—not for performance, not for approval, but for healing.
I was recently accepted into college for Addictions & Mental Health. This path feels so deeply special to me. I know I need to do this not only for me, not only for her, but for all our indigenous brothers and sisters still struggling.
So if you’re still here, chii miigwech. I don’t know exactly where this journey is going to take me, but I do know I’m not giving up on art or myself. And I really hope I can bring you guys along with me.
Savanah, Sweet Cedar Beads.