For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a crafter.
I have wanted to make something out of nothing, turn an idea into gold, question not whether I can do it, but know that I can do it.
I went to college with a girl who knew not only how to sew, but her and her mother would make and paint Christmas ornaments. I wanted that. I wanted to be a mini-me to a Martha Stewart-esque maternal figure.
As I got older, I tried my hand at all sorts of crafty activities. I tried to fall in love with scrapbooking. I tried to make my own ornaments. I tried to adorn everything with pretty. Sparkly and pretty.
I wanted to be a crafting goddess.
But here’s the thing. It’s time to face facts. It is time to be truthful with my inner domestic diva.
I am tired of trying to be a crafter. Sure when I go into Michael’s Craft Store, I want to make all the things. I want to throw twenty-five different projects and all their accoutrements into my cart and plop my ever-present 20% off coupon on the counter and roll out of the store in slow motion with loud music playing in the background.
But you know what happens when I actually go into Michael’s? I don’t purchase crafting stuff. I buy seasonal décor with my 20% off coupon.
I buy things that other people made.
Boom, revelation time. Mind blown…
And you know what? It’s okay that I am not a born crafter. It is totally okay. I am an awesome organizer. No, really. All of my books are alphabetized by the author’s last name. And my clothes are all on hangers facing the same direction, organized by color. Yes, I am one of those people
I rock at organizing.
And I would rather be an organizing superstar than be super handy with a glue gun, felt, and a mason jar.
Because I wouldn’t even know what to do with that 😉