From Survival to Self-Trust: How I Built an Art Career After Workplace Trauma

Recently, I attended human rights mediation with my former employer.

I want to begin by acknowledging something important: I genuinely appreciate that they agreed to come to mediation, and I’m grateful to share that we did reach a settlement agreement.

That matters. Closure matters.

But what matters even more to me is what grew out of that experience.

Because the truth is, what I went through fundamentally changed me.

I was subjected to prolonged stress, repeated accusations that were categorically false, and ongoing demands to explain or justify my “behaviour” based on claims that had no factual basis. One example among many was an allegation that I had been “gossiping and damaging team morale.” There was zero evidence to support this.

Rather than apologizing for something I did not do, I asked for a proper investigation of the claims.

None was conducted.

The irony is difficult to ignore. In their own defence materials, they later acknowledged multiple instances of internal conversations about me involving both upper management and HR, conversations that could reasonably be interpreted as gossip taking place behind closed doors.

What followed was a slow erosion of trust in myself.

Extreme anxiety. Anger. A loss of identity. A loss of confidence in my abilities and professionalism. The kind of psychological impact that doesn’t show up neatly on paper but lives in your nervous system.

Eventually, my parents and my husband stepped in. They saw what this was doing to me, and they encouraged me to try something different. They insisted I give myself permission to build a full-time art career.

And as crazy as it sounded at the time, I did.

Not as a whimsical leap. As a deliberate, disciplined act of survival.

I built it piece by piece while healing. While doubting myself. While learning how to trust my instincts again. I created paintings. I taught classes. I took commissions. I learned marketing, logistics, pricing, and client management. I rebuilt my sense of agency through creative work.

And now, two years later, something remarkable has happened.

My art business is stable.

It is financially viable.

I have exciting projects on the horizon. I set the terms of my work. I choose my clients. I work in environments rooted in respect rather than scrutiny. I am no longer subjected to the kind of adversarial oversight that felt like discrimination masquerading as performance management.

Most importantly, I feel aligned.

Aligned with my skills.

Aligned with my values.

Aligned with the way I want to contribute to the world.

Out of a deeply painful experience came an unexpected gift: I finally gave myself permission to follow my gut.

I stopped trying to prove my worth inside systems that were never designed to hold me safely. I started building something that reflects who I actually am.

Art didn’t just become my career.

It became my way back to myself.

If you’re reading this and you’re in a season of uncertainty, grief, or rebuilding, I want you to know this:

Sometimes the thing that breaks you open is also the thing that sets you free.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for supporting my work. And thank you for walking alongside me as I continue this creative journey, rooted in resilience, integrity, and hope.