This morning, I found myself scrolling through my camera roll.

At first, it was just chairs.

One image stopped me—a before photo of a chair makeover I just completed this week.

It’s heading to live at a client’s desk, and it feels special. A few weeks ago, I shared a video showing all the possible fabrics that could work with the amazing floral on the chair back. We explored so many options: checks, stripes, playful combinations that would all have worked beautifully.  You can watch my Instagram reel here.

But in the end, we chose a sumptuous pink velvet for the seat and finished the frame in gold to complement her desk.

     

The result is a chair that feels joyful. Personal. A chair that makes your heart skip a beat instead of just doing its job.

And then I kept scrolling.

The Scroll That Changed Everything

Mixed in among photos of chair makeovers and fabric choices were screenshots I had forgotten about—screenshots of a conversation I’d saved from a difficult moment.

A conversation with my business coach.

I must have been feeling especially low that day. The kind of day where you quietly wonder if you should keep going. If the work you’re doing really matters. If it’s making any difference at all.

She had written me a scenario. A story about a world without Wendy.
Kind of like It’s a Wonderful Life—but instead of George Bailey, it was me.

Reading it again this morning stopped me in my tracks.

A World Without Color

In her story, there’s a woman who wants a chair that makes her heart skip a beat. A chair that brings joy into her everyday life. But without Wendy, that chair never exists.

She ends up with the beige showroom chair instead.

It does the job.
It functions.
But it sparks nothing.

Without Wendy, she never realizes that a chair—just a chair—could be a piece of art. A slice of joy. A daily reminder that life is meant to be lived in color.

And then there’s another woman.

She’s always felt the pull of creativity. She feels it deep down, but the world has told her that art isn’t practical. That creativity is something you grow out of. Something you keep as a hobby, not something you build a life around.

In this other version of reality, she never stumbles across my work. She never sees someone making art and making a living from it. She never realizes there’s a path she didn’t know existed.

She feels the ache of an unlived life—but doesn’t know why.

And reading that again, a year later, I realized something important.

This Was Never Just About Me

That story wasn’t really about a world without Wendy.

It was about what happens when creativity disappears.
When people stop making things with intention.
When we convince ourselves that what we do is too small to matter.

The truth is, we don’t always get to see the ripple effects of our work.

We don’t see:

• the woman who feels braver because she saw someone else take a leap

• the home that feels warmer because it holds something handmade

• the creative spark that gets reignited because someone chose color instead of beige

But that doesn’t mean those ripples aren’t there.

Why Your Creativity Matters

Whether you’re making chairs, painting, sewing, writing, designing, cooking, teaching, or dreaming something into existence—you are making a difference.

Your creativity matters.
Your voice matters.
The way you show up in your own little corner of the world matters.

Even when:

• it feels small

• it feels slow

• it feels unseen

Especially then.

One hard moment doesn’t erase the truth of what you’ve built.
One setback doesn’t cancel out the lives you’ve touched.
One quiet season doesn’t mean your work isn’t meaningful.

A Reminder I Needed—and Maybe You Do Too

Scrolling through those photos this morning reminded me why I do what I do.

Why I choose bold fabric.
Why I believe in craftsmanship.
Why I believe our surroundings can lift us up.
Why I believe creativity is not frivolous—it’s essential.

And if you’re reading this and feeling tired, discouraged, or unsure if what you’re doing matters, let this be your reminder:

It does.

You matter.
What you create matters.
And the world is more alive because you’re in it.

If you enjoyed this post, you might also enjoy my previous post on Healing Through Creativity that I wrote this past summer.