7+45: A Celebration of Homecoming

On 30 August, I gathered a small group of friends, clients and people who have walked alongside me through different seasons for 7+45: A Celebration of Homecoming.

7 Years of Heart in Hand Atelier. 45 years of me.

I created this celebration because I wanted a new reference point for myself. That it is safe to celebrate myself, I can allow myself to be seen, and I am worthy of being celebrated.

I am usually very quick to move on to the next thing. There is always another project, another idea or another area where I could do better (totally Manifesting Generator energy...lol). This time, I wanted to pause and acknowledge how far I had come, surrounded by people who have supported me and sometimes believed in me more than I believed in myself.

Seven years in one room

Heart in Hand Atelier has existed for seven years, although the first half of that journey was largely spent teaching someone else’s curriculum.

Around late 2022, I started creating more of my own work while weaving in what I had learnt from different teachers. Then came Emotional Landscape in 2023, created during a difficult period when I felt as though what used to work didn't work anymore. I was starting from zero and learning to walk again.

Somewhere along the way, my own visual language began to emerge. It eventually became what I now call my affirmation art (no surprise this term came to me during a hot shower - when I get the most inspirations!).

There is a much longer story behind this, which I will share another time. But that afternoon, seeing the artworks displayed together felt like being surrounded by physical evidence of those seven years. Every piece held a different season, question, experiment or part of me that had found its way onto paper.

A celebration with plenty of play

Although “Homecoming” may sound serious, the celebration itself had so much fun and inner-child energy.

During one of the sharings, I somehow ended up dancing BTS 2.0 in front of everyone. It was a complete mess 😂. When I watched the video afterwards, I could hear everyone laughing, and that may be one of my favourite memories from the day. It was spontaneous, utterly ridiculous and genuinely fun!

We also played with the gacha machine, and I was amazed to discover that some of my guests had never used one before.

Before the celebration, I had asked everyone to send me a childhood photograph as part of our ice-breaker activity. I printed, laminated and cut each one, then tied it with a ribbon so everyone could bring their childhood self home.

Each guest also received a handwritten postcard from me, together with an affirmation I had randomly chosen for them. Somehow, many of the affirmations landed with surprising accuracy.

Some guests joked that it felt as though they were the ones being celebrated. They came for my 7+45 and left with gifts, affirmations, their childhood photographs and, hopefully, a really good afternoon.

Later, one guest shared on Instagram that I have a special way of making people feel seen and heard. That meant a lot to me.

I created 7+45 partly to practise allowing myself to be seen and celebrated. Yet somehow, the people who came left feeling seen too. There was something beautifully reciprocal about that.

What I saw and what they experienced

Of course, I could also see everything that had not gone according to plan.

I had not worked out every detail as thoroughly as I thought I should have. Because my mind notices so many gaps and possible problems, I could see every part that might have been better. A part of me wondered if I had been completely incompetent.

My guests experienced something different. They loved that the celebration felt warm, relaxed and naturally flowing.

Even the food did not go according to plan. Because of a technical hiccup, the caterer had not received my order. My friend Elisa stepped in to collect the food and waited while they prepared everything on the spot.

The food arrived. People ate. The celebration continued.

And guess what? The caterer gave me a full refund of the order as a way of apologising for their glitch. 🥹

Whenever something went wrong, support appeared. People stepped in without waiting for me to control or coordinate everything.

I created the container for the celebration, but I did not have to control every moment within it. Perhaps part of what made the day special was that there was enough room for spontaneity, laughter and other people to bring themselves into the experience too.

Seeing does not make it mine

Over the last few years, I have come to recognise that seeing patterns is one of my strengths. Give me one project, and I can usually see a hundred things that may eventually need attention.

But with my neurodivergence, time can collapse. Future problems can all feel present at once, and everything can seem equally important. Once I see something, I can start feeling responsible for solving it.

My problem-solving is a real strength, and I value that part of myself. I am also beginning to notice how easily usefulness, responsibility, worth and connection can become tangled together.

If I can help, I am useful. If I am useful, perhaps I am needed. And if I am needed, perhaps the connection feels more secure.

Taken too far, I can end up depleted or resentful, even when nobody asked me to take responsibility in the first place.

I am learning that seeing a problem does not automatically make it mine to solve. Even when I have the ability or resources to help, I still have a choice. I am free to choose when and how I help.

7+45 gave me a new experience of this. I did not solve everything, control everything or immediately repay every person who helped me. Yet connection did not disappear.

People stepped in. They helped, laughed, played and celebrated me. I was allowed to receive and simply be there with them.

Coming home

When I look back at the photographs, I see so much more than an event marking a birthday and a business anniversary.

I see the art that grew from seven years of experimenting, doubting, burnout, learning and finding my own voice. I see people from different parts of my life standing together and holding those works in their hands.

I see the childhood photographs I prepared for everyone, the affirmations that found their way to the right people, a gacha machine, a missing food order that somehow worked itself out, and a very messy BTS dance.

Most of all, I see how loved, supported and backed I am.

Perhaps Homecoming was never about arriving as a finished version of myself. It was being able to look around at the art, the people and the life that has grown around me, and allow myself to really take it in.

Thank you to every person who came, helped, laughed, played and celebrated with me. Thank you for seeing me, and for allowing yourselves to be seen too.

You made 7+45 feel like home. 🫶