A Change In My Reality

Reality is an interesting concept. It changes every second that passes by, and in some ways, it can feel like it remains unchanged for years.

My art reality is that I have not painted since my last piece, You Can’t Make Me Do It, Damn It in October of last year. My explanation for not painting? Well, I will say that I have been too busy with my book design work, and that would be true. But that would not be the whole truth. After doing eleven art shows in four months, I was tired, and maybe even a bit broken. I needed a break.

I thought a few weeks or maybe a month would be the time I needed to feel ready to paint again, but the painting dry spell endured until Sunday, April 14, 2025, when I stepped in front of the canvas and began to paint. A few hours later, I was staring at my new creation, A Change In My Reality.

My reality changed considerably between October and now, and painting during that time most likely would have helped me express all the emotions I was feeling. However, because of the many fluctuations in my reality, I couldn’t find the motivation. Each time I thought about painting, I just could not follow through. My absence from the easel felt like it was caused by something significant and unrelated to motivation, but I could not put my finger on it.

And, as always, the truth of why I could not paint for six months came out in the paint. I was not ready to confront the emotions beneath the reality changes. If you unscramble the letter tiles embedded in the painting above, you will find the word that describes the emotion I wasn’t prepared to face. If you want to do that now, I’ll wait.

Aren’t word games fun?

If you found the word, you know, but if you chose not to, the word is betrayal. Since October, I have been betrayed by others, betrayed by my thinking, and betrayed by my body. The trifecta of betrayals is changing how I do business, how I paint, how I think, and how I live my life.

Both Merriam-Webster and I define betrayal as” a violation of a person’s trust or confidence.” And, I have learned, betrayal is one of the most gut-wrenching things to feel and process, especially for someone with abandonment issues, like myself. But I endured, prevailed, and I’m ready to talk about it.

Let’s do this.

Betrayal by others

Because of my childhood trauma, I have spent my life trying to protect myself from the pain and sadness other humans are capable of inflicting upon me. This avoidance has mostly kept me safe, but it has also kept me isolated. I could write pages about the interplay between being secure and missing out, and maybe someday I will. But today is not that day.

What I will say is that a few years ago, I let my guard down and allowed myself to be part of something bigger than myself. It was a professional association that I felt I was ready to jump into without fear of being hurt. I had shied away from anything similar in my past and was proud of myself for putting myself in a situation where I could actually get hurt. I think I convinced myself that if the relationship did not work out, the hurt would not be that bad, and would be overshadowed by all I would gain. Oh, the things we tell ourselves!

The hurt was enormous. The betrayal, perpetrated by multiple people in the most cowardly way possible, landed on me like a house. I was devastated, and the quest to understand the why overtook much of my thinking for months. And, because of this betrayal, my business was in jeopardy.

Or so I thought.

After weeks of processing all the feelings of the betrayal, I began to see my way through and understand the nature of what went down, and why. As the dust of betrayal settled, I discovered my business was not jeopardized. The reality I was incapable of seeing before was much more positive than I could have imagined. During the last few years, I was pivoting, creating connections, and gaining clients from sources other than betrayers. I believe that my subconscious was helping for some time to move away from this unhealthy and toxic relationship, as my conscious mind was kicking and screaming to stay. It was that push and pull that kept me from being able to reconcile and accept my new reality. One foot in, one foot out. 

It took me many months, but I emerged from the betrayal and was committed to moving on. I grieved the loss and prepared myself for the lesson I was know I was supposed to learn, which was not what I thought it was going to be: people suck and stay away from them.

Well, yes, stay away from the people who suck your energy, bring you down, and don’t want you to succeed, but more importantly, here the lesson I needed to learn: I am an amazing book designer and businessperson. You would think I would already know this after 33 years in business, but of course, I did not. Now, I do and will never doubt my design or business talents again, and I will be much more careful in aligning myself with people who share my values.

Betrayed by my own mind

Since the first time I picked up a paintbrush and started to teach myself how to paint in 2020, I have berated myself for not being good enough. Back then, I was not a good enough painter to call myself an artist. Once I “passed the test” to be able to call myself an artist, I continued to punish myself for not being a good artist, but lacked any definition of what a good artist was. I was using my painting to torture myself, and I did not realize it at the time.

The biggest act of torture was my decision to do eleven art shows in four months last year. I needed to know for sure that my art was good, or at the very least good enough, and I thought doing the art show grind would bring me that clarity. It did not, and instead, it nearly broke me. 

Not painting for six months gave me the space to contemplate my art. And, combined with my other betrayals, I was able to really dig deep into my emotions and find clarity. Now I am at peace with my art and my artistic ability. I don’t berate myself (well, maybe a little still), and I am giving myself the space to let my art grow and become what it wants. 

But geez, why did I need to betray myself to get there? 

Because I did, that is my reality. I just did. But I will strive never to do that to myself again. I have learned to love myself and my art. And when I love something, I don’t harm it, ridicule it, or wish it pain. I just love it.

Betrayal by my body

About five years ago, I made a pact with my body that we would be free from any medication until we turn at least sixty years old. We both hoped for longer, though. We turn sixty in about 1.5 years, and in mid-March of this year, that pact was broken, which devastated me. I was looking for someone to blame, so of course, I blamed my body. It betrayed me.

I’ll spare you all the details, but here is the gist of what happened. In early March, my blood pressure was extremely high (I was feeling crazy symptoms), so I went to the emergency room to get it checked out. I had never had high blood pressure before, so I was a bit confused. Many tests, and seven hours later, I went home without a good explanation for the high blood pressure, nor medication to treat it. But I did receive the added bonus of being informed that I have a nodule on my right lung. A week later, I learned the nodule was cancerous.

I have cancer, a betrayal of biblical proportions.

Last week I had a brain MRI and a PET scan, and in a couple of days, I will meet with my oncologist to learn I will which stage my lung cancer is at, and what my treatment options will be. There are stages in lung cancer, ranging from “damn, we caught it early” to “oh, shit, it’s really bad.” If I were able to choose my stage, I would most definitely go for stage one. But we’ll see what my body says about it.

I have been processing the fact that I have cancer for about a month now. It felt like a betrayal initially, but I don’t feel that way anymore. I have done much work on my thoughts and emotions lately and understand that it’s my thoughts that cause me the most pain. If I tell myself my body betrayed me by allowing the cancer in, that thought will continue to cause me stress. 

But, if I am honest and do not try to fight reality, I know that cancer just happens. There’s no one to blame. Well, in my case, I could rationally blame myself since I smoked for thirty years, but I am not going to do that either. Where’s the good in that blame? Again, it will only stress me out, and I cannot find any benefit in that.

I have cancer; that’s my reality.

I am a fighter and will no doubt fight as hard as I can to regain my health and rid my body of cancer. I don’t know what that looks like, and I am okay with that. I will face my reality as it unfolds for me.

The betrayal I felt by my body is probably the catalyst that got me back in front of the easel. I will experience so many emotions and think a plethora of thoughts as I move forward in my cancer “journey.” The canvas will help me express it all, and ultimately, find my truths. I am grateful for my art, and I will no longer betray it or myself.

The final word on betrayal

The painting that started this writing also began as a betrayal. Last summer, I convinced myself to go back to a representational style to see how it would turn out. Well, not well, I must confess. It was so horrible to my eyes that I had to paint over it as soon as possible. I felt that if I didn’t, I could not coexist in the world with it still showing its horribleness.

After the show season, I pulled the whitewashed canvas out of hiding with the intent of painting it. I just could not find the motivation, so I scribbled on it instead. It felt like progress at the time.

With A Change in My Reality, I wanted to redeem myself, and this canvas. What started as a betrayal ended as a triumph. The swirling colors in the background are reminiscent of stormy water and depict the chaos in my mind as I processed the emotional toll of betrayal. And, as I emerged from the fog of anger, the serenity of acceptance was evident in the colorful marks and shapes. Emotions spanning months are captured on one canvas. 

Although the road to a better place was difficult and littered with heavy emotions and life-changing events, how I handled it along the way defines me and sets the course for my future.

I have grown. I am growing
I have learned. I am learning
I have loved what is. I am loving what is.

Thanks for reading my story..