Balancing parenthood and creativity

I am a creative soul through and through. Throw me a canvas, a guitar, or even an old toilet roll tube and I get a rush of inspiration thinking of all the things I can do with it. I've been the same since I was a kid. My poor mum used to get a bouquet of paper flowers made from whatever bit of rubbish I could find every single Mothers' Day (although, now that I'm a mum myself, I think I'd actually find this quite endearing - or at least I would for the first couple of times...)

But speaking of becoming a parent...

Just how has parenthood impacted my creativity?

I don't know about other mums, but for me, I found it really quite difficult to find my balance again after becoming a parent. Putting it bluntly, I found it to be a constant internal juggle of being selfless and wanting to nurture your child with everything you are capable of, and being selfish and just wanting to escape for a while to live your old life again.

Whilst creativity is definitely something that runs through your veins, it does also come in peaks and troughs. As a songwriter for example, you can go months struggling with writer's block, and then suddenly be hit by a lightning bolt of inspiration and scribble down ten new songs in one sitting. Whilst it's certainly infuriating riding that rollercoaster, it's even more infuriating when you throw a baby into the mix. Long gone are the days where you can sit down with an instrument and really concentrate whenever you get a burst of inspiration, or wake up at 3am with an idea and jot it down knowing you can pursue it the following morning. Now, the only time I'm up at 3am is to do night feeds and I am FAR too exhausted to think of anything remotely exciting worth writing about. Any bursts of inspiration are now pushed aside, overtaken by the need to keep a close eye on your toddler to make sure they're not about to injure themselves for the 400th time that day.

These days, my creative time comes in the form of an hour or two between the little one's bedtime and ours (and that's if I even have the energy to use that time productively - if it's been a particularly exhausting day, all I want to do is put my pyjamas on and sit in front of the TV). But, the biggest problem of all with scheduled creative time - and I'm sure other creatives will agree - is it's so hard to force creativity. You can't plan for it. You can't particularly pencil it in. It just... happens. So even my dedicated creative time isn't all that creative anymore, or at least, not in the same way it used to be.

That being said, I feel like parenthood brings with it its own little evolution opportunities - both creative and otherwise.

My inspiration, motivation, and outlets are just different now.

I think it starts with accepting the fact that nothing in your life is the same as it used to be. You are no longer the main character in your own story - and that's not necessarily a bad thing. For me, I actually found this realisation to be quite enlightening and revelatory. For the first time in my life, it took me out of my own head. It stopped me concentrating on silly little things that didn't even matter. Suddenly, everything felt trivial. My brain seemed to unlock a whole new level of emotion that I didn't even know existed, and it was profoundly directed towards my greatest creation of all - my daughter. From then, every thought of being creative just came in the form of, 'how could I make something that will make my daughter's life better?'.

Slowly but surely, as I've learned to navigate the chaotic contradicting concoction of baby bliss, exhaustion and matrescence, I've discovered new purposes and creative avenues along the way.

However, my issue then, I found, was that whilst I had accepted that things had changed, I still felt a sort of societal pressure that I should be doing what I was doing pre-baby, and to the same extent.

I'd spent 15 years building up my music career. Was I about to let that all go down the drain? Would people think I was throwing all my efforts away? Would people not consider me "successful" anymore if I wasn't booking in tours and shows and studio sessions every other day? What about the people who'd followed my career from day one, or those who financially support me by buying my music and coming to my shows. Would they feel like their money was wasted? Would they not want to back me anymore?

It took a good heart-to-heart with my husband to realise that this was MY life, not everyone else's.

I suddenly remembered back to one particular moment when I was younger. A thought I'd had. I can't remember how old I must've been, 7 or 8 perhaps? Maybe 10? Who knows. But, even at that age, I always knew that whatever my future career was to be, it would be something in the creative realm. I had so many passions. I wanted to be a singer, I wanted to be a fashion designer, I wanted to be an artist, the list was endless.

As a kid, adults are always so keen to ask you, "what do you want to be when you grow up?", and as harmless as this little question is, one day I really got thinking about it. Why did I have to have one answer? Why couldn't I do everything? If I were to live until I was 100 years old, I could spend ten years mastering each and every single one of my desired career paths and still have time to spare. Why was that not as good an answer as just, 'I want to be an accountant' (no offence, accountants).

And so, once my baby brain had (mostly) cleared up and I was able to realistically think about what I wanted my new future to look like, I made a decision.

This was going to be my 'creative parenting era'.

This is my time to prioritise myself and my family. This is my time to do the things that make me happy. What better gift could I give my daughter than raising her in a happy household with parents who are actively doing what they love? What a great role-model attitude for her to witness and experience on a daily basis, not parents who are constantly stressed about work and agitated when they get home.

I decided I'd pursue all of my childhood interests that I'd pushed aside in order to focus on building up my music career. I dug out my sewing machine again. I got out my canvases. I started designing and making things again.

And with that, those two "creative" hours before bed felt exciting and productive again, rather than forced and hollow.

I had a purpose to be creative again. By prioritising my own happiness, I've found that it's started to show in my parenting too.

I'm a happier mum.

I feel proud of myself for making my daughter's clothes and, as a result, our mornings are filled with so much more fun and enthusiasm as we choose our outfits each day. Special occasions feel bigger and brighter and more celebratory as we get to hang new, specially tailored, handmade decorations up about the place. Our home feels even homelier as I look round at all of the little creations and achievements that make it so uniquely ours.

Whilst I've always loved my work as a musician, there are times where it can just feel like a slog. But, when it's your only source of income and you know you've got no choice but to go and do it, I think that can add to the pressure and take away some of the thrill and excitement.

Now that I've opened myself up to (hopefully!) be able to pay my bills through a variety of different avenues, I'm optimistic that my creative streak will just continue to blossom and the excitement will remain as potent as it was on day one.

The moment something stops becoming enjoyable, I'm giving myself permission to just call quits. I doesn't mean I've failed. It means I challenged myself, I relished the best bits, and then I bid it farewell before it left a negative lasting impression.