Gemotions

From the moment she could hold a crayon, Sarah’s daughter had shown a talent for drawing. It wasn’t just a passing interest, but a consuming passion. Now, the walls of their house were plastered with her artwork. Every conversation focused on color palettes, brushstrokes, gallery showings. Sarah, who had always considered her own sketches “adequate,” found herself feeling a growing discomfort.

She began to criticize the work, small, nitpicky comments on technique. Her daughter would look up, her face clouded with confusion.

She felt a hot flush creep up her neck whenever her daughter picked up a brush. The art supplies, once a shared activity, felt like a constant affront, a silent accusation of her own mediocrity.