Over the last five years, I’ve been in a profound transition, moving away from the identities I held for so long and into new, more unrestricted spaces. For years, I was known as a web developer and a designer—labels that felt like constraints on who I truly am. But as I stepped into new forms of self-expression, like Dash Dyeing, I realized that labels can be limiting, especially when what you want to express is so much more fluid and colorful.

When I first got sober, the only label that seemed to fit was “addict.” It was the only identity I felt I had and was heavy to carry. Yet, beneath the compulsion was a layer of anxiety and depression that I hadn’t yet fully addressed. As I began to explore who I was beyond the label, other labels emerged— hypersensitive person, ADHD, autistic. Each label seemed to explain a part of me, but none encapsulated all of me. I’ve often fallen back on “complex trauma,” the story of my past experiences in a controlling church and losing connection with my twin for over a decade. These labels helped explain my struggles, but they also felt constraining. I was raised to be a certain way, primarily as a woman, and I worked hard to fit that mold.

Sobriety cracked that mold wide open, and I’ve been rediscovering what I want to express. I still love participating in parties and being around others. Still, I realized that my drinking often had more to do with drowning out the noise and overstimulation than with a desire for alcohol itself. Now that I understand what overstimulation feels like, I can better protect myself from chaotic environments that drain me. I know when a party isn’t for me because the sound, the lights, and even the smell of alcohol make me feel distant from myself.

As I’ve grown into quieter, more intimate spaces, I’ve also come to understand that no label—whether “alcoholic,” “neurodivergent,” or “artist”—can capture the full spectrum of who I am. None of these labels have allowed me the freedom of self-expression I feel when creating something unexpected with my hands. When I’m in that creative flow, I’m not thinking about who I am, what I should be, or how I’m perceived. I’m just moving joyfully, allowing the colors to spill and flow abstractly. Dash-dyeing is one of the few places I let go and enjoy myself.

The process of dash dyeing is a perfect metaphor for letting go of the need to control what something is. When you stop trying to hang everything perfectly and force a pattern, you can start to appreciate the beauty of a spill – the unexpected. Dash dyeing, like life, is about opening your hands and allowing what comes to flow through you—trusting that the outcome, while unpredictable, will be beautiful.

I am sober. I am neurodivergent. I have complex PTSD. But more than any of these labels, I am someone who has learned to trust the flow of life and embrace change. As I distance myself from unhelpful labels and step into the “color alchemist” label, I celebrate the creative, compulsive energy that art brings. Who knew art could be as addicting as anything once you feel those sparks of creativity flying?

When you stop trying to label everything so precisely and instead lean into what brings you joy, the real magic happens. I’ve created over 150 different dye swatches, and while I’ve labeled them all, I know that the magic happens when you hold a swatch in your hand and feel which color speaks to you. It’s an intuitive process—knowing which hues resonate with your heart and soul, not just your eyes.

I invite you to spend time with OUR COLORS. See what speaks to you. Step away from defining yourself with labels and get in tune with what your heart wants to express. Life, like art, is more joyful when we allow the abstract and unexpected to take shape.