My 6-year-old niece loves playing with me.

And I love playing with her, too. Well… when I’m in the mood. 😉

One day, she walked into my home office while I was sitting at my desk, typing away on my laptop.

She noticed a piece of paper with a drawing on it, resting on a basket filled with colorful pencils.

“It’s so pretty! Wow. You’re so good. Can you teach me to draw like this?”

“Your drawings are beautiful, too,” I told her. “I just draw what comes to me. You can do that too.”

Then she said, “Let’s draw together!”

I reluctantly agreed.

It wasn’t part of my plan for the day, and the part of me that likes to know what’s coming wasn’t particularly thrilled about this spontaneous change of plans.

We went downstairs to the kitchen, where we had more room to spread out. I sharpened the pencils and we got started.

Except my niece had something else in mind.

She wanted to draw on my drawing.

The very drawing she’d just been admiring.

“No,” I protested. “Here’s a blank sheet of paper for you. You can make your own drawing.”

But she wouldn’t give up.

“Nooo… I want to draw on THIS one.”

I looked at my drawing.

You see, my drawings aren’t just drawings. They’re a reflection of my inner world. I draw what I’m moving through emotionally, spiritually, and psychologically. Sometimes, when I don’t have the words or even understand what’s happening inside me, my drawings become a kind of map, helping me make sense of my own process.

And this particular map felt important to me.

I didn’t want her to mess it up.

So I stood my ground.

Firmly, I said, “No. You can’t draw here,” pointing to the blank sheet of paper in front of her.

And within seconds, she was crying.

Through her tears, I heard her say:

“But I just want to help you.”

I watched her withdraw. Her little body seemed to shrink and the energy between us changed.

And suddenly, I saw what was happening.

Here I was, so busy protecting my inner world that I was shutting out someone who simply wanted to be part of it.

I was afraid she’d mess up my process.

But she wasn’t trying to take anything away from me.

She wanted to contribute. To connect. To help.

I softened.

I turned toward her, gently placed my hand on her head, and said, “Okay… you can help me.”

I let her in.

Into my space. Into my process. Into a part of my world I’d been keeping private.

Her face lit up.

She grabbed a red pencil and began coloring between the black lines.

I exhaled.

I let myself receive her help.

She got to offer something she genuinely wanted to give.

And suddenly, there was room for both of us.

For my process and her contribution.

And I wonder how often we do the same thing in our own lives.

How often have we become so accustomed to protecting ourselves that we don’t know how to let someone reach us?

How often do we insist on figuring everything out alone, keeping our struggles private, or maintaining control over our healing because letting someone in feels too vulnerable?

How often do we mistake protecting ourselves for having to do everything by ourselves?

And what might become possible if we allowed ourselves to be supported without feeling that we’d lose ourselves in the process?

This is something I want to explore with you in my upcoming Belonging to Yourself ​workshop.​

Because belonging to yourself isn’t about building walls so strong that nobody can reach you.

It’s about cultivating a relationship with yourself that allows you to stay connected to who you are and to open yourself to others.

To be in relationship without abandoning yourself.

To receive without losing yourself.

To let yourself be seen, met, and supported without feeling that you have to become someone else to belong.

If this speaks to something you’re navigating, I’d love to welcome you to my workshop.

This is a space to explore: a deeper relationship with yourself, your inner authority, and the wholeness you no longer need to chase.

This is not a trauma-healing space. It’s a space for what comes next.

​I hope you’ll join me.

With love,

Gayane. ❤️

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