The Art of Letting Go: Creating from Freedom, Not Pain

This blog is dedicated to my late grandmother, Dolores Dennis.

I’ve encountered people in my life who carry a warped sense of entitlement—those who expect your loyalty, generosity, and silence, even as they betray you with gossip, lies, and theft. They operate from a mindset that says: “Let me punch you in the face because you’re strong, and if you dare respond, you’re the villain.”

Over time, I’ve come to accept a difficult truth: many people are inherently self-centered. They’d rather cling to comfortable lies than face truths that challenge their ego. You can live with integrity, uplift others, and stay in your own lane—but some will still drag your name through the mud, just to feel important or to stir division for their own gain. When you assert boundaries or defend yourself, you’re suddenly labeled a “troublemaker” or “bully.” It’s a toxic blend of ignorance, cowardice, mental instability, and jealousy.

No one—family, church, or so-called friends—should pressure you to dim your light or shrink yourself to protect their fragile egos. I’ve experienced this often. But now, I’ve chosen to release those people. They don’t nourish me emotionally, spiritually, or creatively.

As an artist, I often reflect on the saying, “artists paint from pain.” While there’s truth to that, I’ve found deeper strength in creating from freedom, specifically, the freedom that comes when you release dead weight. My mother used to call them “Hard Luck” people—those who bring drama, dysfunction, and negativity into every space they enter.

Letting go has unlocked something powerful in me. The ability to create becomes liberating when your soul isn’t burdened by people who only take. I forgive them, but I will no longer allow them access to my peace. I’ve made a promise to myself as an artist: to protect my happiness, my truth, and my space at all costs.

Artist Frida Kahlo once said, “I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality.” That reality, for me, is no longer tethered to toxicity. My art is not born of suffering, but of release.

As the Bible says in Proverbs 4:23: “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” I live by this now. My heart is sacred, and my art is its voice.