learning to trust my eye

Today I learned that improving doesn’t mean changing everything I naturally want to do.

I really love full, abundant bouquets. I love when flowers spill outward and when there are lots of little things happening throughout the arrangement. I used to think that if I wanted to become better at floral design, I had to stop doing that and make my arrangements look more like someone else’s.

But I’m leaning that my style and the principles of design don’t have to compete with each other. They can coexist.

I can love fullness and still create negative space.

I can use lots of flowers and still create hierarchy.

I can make something loose and organize while still thinking about balance, proportion, rhythm, and movement.

This was also my first hand-tied bouquet, and I learned how to spiral my stems. That alone feels like something worth being proud of. I was learning a completely new technique while also trying to make something beautiful. I didn’t know exactly what I was doing yet, and I didn’t have to.

I am learning that it’s okay to be a beginner.

I don’t have to already know exactly what I’m doing. I don’t have to look at someone else’s work and wonder why mine doesn’t look like that yet. I am allowed to make arrangements that are imperfect. I am allowed to try something and not love every part of it. I am allowed to make mistakes and still be proud that I made something at all.

Being a beginner doesn’t mean I’m bad at something. It just means I’m becoming.

I also want to be careful about constantly asking someone else whether my work is right. Feedback can teach me, but I don’t want to lose my eye in the process.

I want to learn the rules so I can understand them—not so I can become afraid of breaking them.

I don’t have to make every bouquet perfect. I need to make it, look at it, ask myself what I like, ask myself what I would change, and then learn from the answer.

I can listen to advice without letting it drown out my own instincts.

I can take what helps me and leave what doesn’t.

And maybe becoming better isn’t about getting to a point where I never question myself anymore. Maybe it’s about slowly learning how to question myself without automatically assuming I’m wrong.

Today I choose to trust myself a little more going forward.

I’m still learning.

I’m allowed to be learning.

I’m allowed to be a beginner.

And I don’t have to hate the version of me who isn’t finished yet.

I’m becoming her, one arrangement at a time.