What 2025 Taught Me About Art, Motherhood, and Alignment

I don’t think I realized how much of myself I had been holding together with grit and prayer until 2025 cracked me open in ways I didn’t see coming.

This year asked me to face myself, my artistry, my motherhood, my purpose; without the mask, without the version of me that knew how to perform strength on command.

And what I learned… whew.

It reshaped the way I show up, not just as an artist, but as a woman, a mother, and a soul trying to live in alignment with what God has truly called me to.

Motherhood Didn’t Take Me Away From Art:

It Deepened Me

For so long, I thought I had to pick one identity at a time.

I thought motherhood meant slowing down, shrinking dreams, or putting my creativity on the back burner until life was “less full.” But this year reminded me that motherhood isn’t something I need to work around but is the very thing that fuels me.

My children have been a part of my art since the first day I painted.

They’ve seen me chase deadlines with a baby on my hip, paint murals with paint still drying on my shirt, build a career in the middle of bottles, school drop-offs, baseball games, and bus schedules.

And instead of taking from me, they’ve poured into me.

Motherhood didn’t silence me, it made my voice louder.

Motherhood didn’t distract me, it aligned me.

Motherhood didn’t split me, it taught me how whole I really am.

In 2025, I stopped treating my roles like they were fighting each other. I learned that being a present mother and a powerful artist can exist in the same breath, and that the harmony I was searching for wasn’t about balance, it was about truth.

My Art Became More Honest Because I Became More Honest

This year forced me to stop painting from pressure and start painting from purpose.

It challenged me to step deeper into the stories I carry; the ones about resilience, identity, lineage, healing, and community.

It reminded me that my art is not just something I “make,” it’s something I translate.

Every canvas, every mural, every project I touched in 2025 required me to be braver than the version of me from the year before.

I painted through exhaustion, through joy, through grief, through transitions, through spiritual awakenings I never expected.

I learned that some of my most powerful work came through surrender, not control.

I started listening to my intuition more.

I trusted my creative spirit more.

I followed alignment even when it didn’t look logical.

And somewhere in that process, I stopped trying to prove myself and started trying to express myself.

That shift changed everything.

Alignment Showed Me What Happens When You Stop Forcing and Start Flowing

2025 was the year I finally understood that everything meant for me will meet me when I’m in alignment, not when I’m overworking, overthinking, or overextending myself trying to be everything for everybody.

I learned to rest without guilt.

I learned to say no without apologizing.

I learned to release what didn’t feel like home that meant people, opportunities, expectations, habits.

And the wildest part?

The moment I let go of what was draining me, God sent me what I’d been praying for.

Projects that aligned.

People that aligned.

Purpose that aligned.

Peace that aligned.

This year taught me that alignment is not a destination...it’s a decision.

A daily one.

And every time I chose truth over performance, authenticity over pressure, intuition over fear… my life shifted.

I Stopped Splitting Myself:

I Let Myself Be All of Me

One of the most healing things 2025 gave me was permission to stop pretending I had to switch between identities like costumes.

I am not multiple people.

I am not living separate lives.

I am one whole woman building a legacy in real time, with my kids watching me step deeper into my purpose every single day.

Being an artist makes me a better mother.

Being a mother makes me a deeper artist.

And honoring both makes me more aligned than I’ve ever been.

Walking Into 2026, I’m Carrying a New Kind of Confidence

Not the loud confidence but the quiet, steady kind.

The kind that comes when you’ve survived a year that stretched you in places you didn’t know had room to grow.

The kind that comes from learning to trust yourself again.

The kind that comes from noticing how God kept showing up for you, even on the days you didn’t show up for yourself.

2025 taught me that my art is my gift.

My motherhood is my ministry.

And my alignment is my protection.

I’m walking into a new year softer, stronger, and more surrendered.

More me.

Finally… fully me.

And if this year taught me anything, it’s that the version of me I’ve been becoming was worth every stretch, every tear, every lesson, and every leap.

Stay the path. Trust the process. Paint the story.

-Stina