☁️ Living & Working with Chronic Pain and Illness
Hi friend,
Today I want to talk about something close to my heart. Not the cute characters or the colouring books or the cosy cups of tea (although they’re part of the story too) — but the truth that quietly holds it all together behind the scenes:
I live and work with chronic pain and illness.
And maybe you do too.
It’s a part of my life that doesn’t often make it into tidy captions or polished posts, but it shapes everything I do — including how I draw, how I plan, and how I rest.
🌸 The Invisible Side
Some mornings I wake up already tired. Before I’ve done a thing, my body feels heavy, my joints ache, and my head is foggy like the sky before rain. Simple tasks — making breakfast, picking up toys, opening a drawer — can feel like I’ve run a marathon. I often need help. I often need breaks. And I’ve learned (the hard way) that pushing through isn’t always brave — sometimes it’s just unkind.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not strong.
And it doesn’t mean I’m not creating something beautiful.
🎨 How I Make It Work (Slowly, Gently)
The rhythm of my work looks a little different — and that’s okay. I work in quiet bursts, when the energy comes. I plan around my pain, not around pressure. Some days I draw from bed. Some days I pack orders in my pyjamas. Some days, Robbie and I just rest, and that’s enough.
My workspace is soft and flexible — like a nest I’ve built to keep myself safe and supported. Pillows. Blankets. Tea. Gentle lighting. No guilt.
And yes — sometimes nothing gets done.
That’s allowed here.
🐦 Why I Still Create
Because art lets me process.
Because a soft pencil line can feel like a breath.
Because even on the hardest days, imagining a tiny robin holding a strawberry brings me joy.
I make things slowly, with care, because my body needs slowness — but also because slowness makes room for meaning.
You don’t need to be fast to be valuable.
You don’t need to be pain-free to make something beautiful.
🌼 If You’re in the Same Boat…
I see you.
The days when your body says no, but your heart still whispers yes.
The days when you cancel plans or cry quietly or just need help with the socks.
You’re not alone. You're not behind. You're not weak.
You are doing something hard with grace.
Let’s be gentle with ourselves. Let’s build lives that make space for rest, softness, and little joys — like warm mugs, cosy corners, and silly mascots who always show up with love.
I’m still here. Still drawing. Still dreaming.
And if all you did today was keep going in your own way, then I’m proud of you.
With warmth and rest,
Ayesha (& Robbie, who is currently asleep on my lap 🐦💤)