For a long time, I believed a lie. I thought that in order to be valuable, I had to have it all together. And when I realized that wasn’t possible, I defaulted to the next best thing: pretend I had it all together.
The result? I got good at hiding. Good at performing. But eventually, the pressure of carrying a false version of myself led to burnout, isolation, and something worse—a quiet sense of shame that I couldn’t shake.
That’s why A Broken Crayon means so much to me. This isn’t just a happy little story for kids. It’s a reflection of my own journey. A reminder that admitting brokenness is not weakness—it’s where healing begins.
When I finally got honest about my struggles, everything began to change. Not all at once—but slowly, I started to see how admitting weakness wasn’t the end of my usefulness—it was the beginning.
That’s the heart behind A Broken Crayon. It’s not about fixing yourself. It’s about recognizing that even with cracks, you still matter. It’s a message for children, yes—but one that adults need just as much.
