Hello again,
I find myself thinking a lot these days, perhaps too much time on my hands! But one thought keeps returning: the one thing I wish I’d had throughout my education journey.
It may seem small to some, but for me it feels huge. Being autistic, I often need validation to feel that I am good enough in what I do, especially with the thing I love most, hand embroidery. This isn’t about regret or complaining about what I didn’t have. It’s about processing the gap between what I expected, and what I actually received.
During my textile degree, I longed to use hand embroidery more. Most projects were only five weeks long, leaving little space to explore it deeply. Only my final project, three months long, allowed me to really stitch in the way I wanted. Then covid arrived, and lockdowns stripped away many of the opportunities I had hoped for. I was especially looking forward to the natural dye elements, dreaming of dyeing my own embroidery threads to stitch with. Instead, pre-dyed fabrics were posted to me, and the embroidery we were shown was limited to basic stitches, treated only as embellishment. Despite making clear at interview how passionate I was about hand embroidery, I felt that side of me was never really nurtured.
Yes, I graduated with a First Class with Honours in Textiles, and I am proud of that. But it wasn’t in hand embroidery. I still feel like something is missing and that I am an imposter. What I crave is not “just another certificate.” It’s something I can hold in my hands, see, and touch, a tangible reminder that I am a skilled hand embroiderer.
Yes, I continued to stitch during my MA, but again I felt the target was slightly missed. The focus was more on facilitating than on discovering who I was as a hand embroiderer. Facilitating is valuable, of course, but at that stage I longed to explore my own voice and direction, not simply prepare to hand it over to others.
That said, I gained so much from my time at university. Attending in the first place was something I never thought I was capable of, and graduating, not once but twice, gave me confidence I didn’t know I had. It pushed me to break through barriers I once thought impossible.
But where is all of this leading? As I’ve mentioned before, the one place I dream of studying is the Royal School of Needlework. If it were possible, I would wholeheartedly apply and even fund another degree myself. Sadly, with the school being based in Hampton Court Palace, a Grade I listed building, it simply isn’t accessible for me, and that door remains closed.
So what else is there? Where else can I find the validation I need? For me, City & Guilds feels like the right step. I’ve recently applied for a bursary, and I truly believe this route could empower me. Holding an accredited qualification would not only help me believe in myself, but also give me the authority to share embroidery with others, knowing I have the proper foundation to do so.
My family say I don’t need that piece of paper, that I’m already good enough. But for me, it means more than paper. It’s validation, proof, and a symbol of credibility. Hand embroidery is part of my daily life, and having a qualification in it would give me the confidence not only to honour my own ability, but also to share the joy and wellbeing it brings with others.
So no, this isn’t about collecting certificates. It’s about something much deeper: having visible proof that I am good enough, and a positive reminder that will help me step forward with confidence to inspire others through the art form I love.
If you have time, I pose these questions, what is your view?
“Have you ever felt the need for validation in your own creative journey?”
“What’s the one thing that helps you feel ‘good enough’ in what you do?”
“How has embroidery or another craft helped you grow in confidence?”
“What does hand embroidery (or your craft) give you that nothing else does?”
“Do you believe we ever stop needing validation, no matter our age or stage?”
“What gives you a sense of purpose in your creative life?”
Thank you for popping by
Until the next time...
