A Reflection on Five Years in Business and Motherhood

Five years. Broken Paddle Studio has been slowly chugging along for five whole years, a sentence I honestly never thought I’d be lucky enough to write.

This entrepreneurial path of mine began about eight months after the birth of my first baby, back in 2019. I was a new mom, a role that had me consumed by this inexplicable euphoria while simultaneously feeling so lost, alone, and confused. Motherhood, as it turns out, is really freaking hard. Who knew!? The overwhelm of caring for a newborn sent me into a tailspin of anxiety, guilt, and fear, and I ended each day feeling completely depleted and nothing like myself.

For a while, anyway.

I loved my baby immensely. I breathed her in and exhaled a kind of joy I still can’t find the words for. But I had lost myself in motherhood and all of its complex contradictions and expectations. Lost, of course, until I stumbled upon a watercolor tutorial on Youtube. To say that video changed my life is probably a bit dramatic, but let’s just roll with it because, guys, I became obsessed with painting, and that obsession became the creative outlet I so desperately needed to dig myself out from the trenches.

If you’re a parent or any kind of caregiver, then you know how easy it is to push yourself into the corner and neglect your own wellbeing. Moms are especially good at this, I think, abandoning ourselves for the sake of the ones we hold dearest. I did this when I first became a mom and I still do it today. But being an artist, owning a creative passion that lives and breathes alongside my passion for my kids has helped me recognize and celebrate my worth, my talents, and my individuality, and it’s something I never take for granted.

So much has changed in my life and my business since that day. My husband and I moved from Michigan to Alaska, then Indiana, and now Maryland. We had three more kids, another sentence I never thought I’d write (did you know vasectomies aren’t 100% successful? Now you do!). We planted roots in new communities, said goodbye to lifelong friends and made new ones along the way. We survived a global pandemic while raising newborn twins on a remote island in Alaska (there’s another one of those sentences…). We saw the mountains. We climbed the mountains. We bought a boat and caught fish the size of our legs. We ate king salmon and Dungeness crab and pointed at bears in the wild. We parted ways with Alaska, a farewell that nearly shattered my heart. We readjusted to suburban life in Indiana and experienced the thrill of D1 college tailgating while Erik earned his MBA. We stumbled a few times. We questioned our parenting choices daily. We asked for forgiveness. We cried, we laughed, and we watched our kids outgrow their cribs, their shoes, their toys. A lot of life has happened in these past five years, and I’m so thankful that my business and my passion for art has survived the ride.

I haven’t achieved most of my business goals. I still have so much to learn and so much to do, and part of me feels a little discouraged that I haven’t accomplished more. But if running a business while raising four kids has taught me anything, it’s that I can’t do it all, and that patience and grace are the best antidotes for a mind crawling with lofty dreams.

In summary, I’ve sold thousands of art prints. My work can be found in nearly 30 stores. I’ve sold originals to strangers and have painted more pet portraits and commissions than I have time to count. I licensed artwork with brands. I’ve attended numerous art shows. And I’ve brought beauty and joy to the walls of so many people’s homes.

I’m proud of this work.

I’m proud of this business.

And I’m proud of the dreams I hold in my heart.

More than anything, though, I’m proud of my kids. Even if I accomplish all of my business goals, even if I make my dreams a reality, even if I build my brand into everything I hope it to be, it all pales in comparison to the privilege it is to be a mama. Motherhood helped me discover my identity as an artist. And for that, I’m grateful.

Cheers to the next five years, may they be just as full as the last.

Much love,

Shelby