Following the Pull of the Tide

Growing up on the Carolina coast, I've spent my life watching the tides come and go. They arrive faithfully, reshaping shorelines, carrying away what no longer belongs, and making room for something new.

I've come to realize that life's biggest changes work much the same way.

Even when we're comfortable where we are, there are moments when we begin to feel the pull of something deeper—a quiet calling that refuses to be ignored. Following that pull can be scary. It can be uncertain and messy. But sometimes the very thing we're afraid to leave behind is standing between us and where we're truly meant to be.

This is the story of one of those tides.

I knew from the time I was a little girl that I was created to create—and even more specifically, to illustrate.

It all began in kindergarten, when my wonderful teacher, Mrs. Jacobs, saw something in me that I was only beginning to understand myself. She noticed how much I loved to draw and encouraged me to create illustrations for story time. Looking back, I can see that she was nurturing a gift long before I understood its significance. In many ways, this new chapter feels like a return to that first calling.

Nearly ten years ago, I took a leap of faith and left a career in the medical field to become a full-time professional artist. It remains one of the best decisions I've ever made. Over the years, I built a studio practice I was beginning to be proud of, participated in shows and markets, taught classes and private lessons, traveled for workshops, and exhibited in galleries. I experienced success, weathered the inevitable feast-or-famine seasons, and built a beautiful community of fellow artists and supporters.

I am deeply grateful for that chapter of my life.

But over the last few years, I began to realize something.

I had become so focused on building a successful art career that I had forgotten to ask myself an important question: Was I still creating the kind of art that truly lit me up inside?

Anyone who knows me knows I have never been afraid of hard work. In fact, I probably worked longer hours as an artist than I ever did during my years in the hospital. Long days in the studio often turned into late nights at home, chasing the next goal, the next show, the next opportunity. Somewhere along the way, I realized I had become exhausted from carrying the weight of trying to do everything.

At the same time, I felt a growing desire for my work to communicate something deeper. I wanted my art to tell stories. I wanted it to carry meaningful messages. I wanted it to leave people feeling seen, encouraged, inspired, or understood.

Then opportunity came knocking.

Through the kindness of a special friend, Heather Harman, I was introduced to author Craig Jones and given the opportunity to illustrate his children's book, Everybody Stinks. What started as a project quickly became a turning point.

As I brought Kit the little skunk and this story to life, something unexpected happened. A spark reignited inside me.

The heart of the book is simple but powerful: embrace who you are. Your quirks. Your differences. The very things that make you unique. As I worked on the illustrations, I realized that I wasn't simply creating pictures—I was helping tell a story that might encourage a child to see themselves differently, and to see others differently, too.

For the first time in a long time, I felt completely aligned with my purpose.

I realized that illustration allowed me to combine everything I love most: drawing, storytelling, imagination, and meaningful connection. Creating these worlds didn't feel forced. It felt natural. It flowed as effortlessly as the Cape Fear River winding through Wilmington.

And perhaps most importantly, I realized something else.

There is only one me.

I cannot do everything.

I do not need to chase every opportunity, enter every show, or measure my journey against someone else's. We each have our own path, our own calling, and our own gifts to offer the world.

For me, that calling is illustration.

So I made one of the hardest decisions of my career. I said goodbye to my professional studio and returned to working from home.

To some, it may have looked like a step backward.

For me, it felt like coming home.

It is giving me space to heal, to rest, to rediscover my creativity, and to build a life that feels more balanced and sustainable. Like a caterpillar retreating into its cocoon, I needed a season of quiet transformation before stepping into what comes next.

Like the pull of the moon on the tide, something kept drawing me back to this place. Back to my home studio. Back to drawing. Back to storytelling. Back to the wonder that first inspired me as a child.

And so, I followed the tide.

Yes, this change has been scary. It has been uncertain, messy, and deeply emotional at times. But in my heart, I know it is leading me exactly where I am meant to be.

Home.