What I Didn’t Find in the Sketchbooks

I finally worked up the nerve to go through my old sketchbooks. The ironic part is that it wasn’t nearly as emotional or stressful as I thought it would be. There was a definite sense of memory lane, but not the kind of discovery I had imagined.

What I didn’t find was an abundance of work or unfinished ideas waiting to be revived. That was what I was secretly hoping for. Some hidden archive of concepts that would set me up for months, maybe even a year, of exploration. Instead, I found only a handful of sketches that still felt usable.

At first, that was disappointing.

Relief in the Absence

Looking back, I think that disappointment was tied to wanting an easier path forward. Revisiting old work can feel like a shortcut, a way to bypass the uncertainty of starting fresh. Not finding that safety net was uncomfortable, but it was also clarifying.

There’s something healthy about not being able to rely on the past to carry you forward.

The process reminded me of a few important things. First, how often I get stuck in my own head. Second, how rarely things are as scary as I imagine them to be. And finally, how much joy is tied to simply making time for the things that matter to me.

Going through the sketchbooks had been nagging at me for a long time. Now that it’s done, that mental weight is gone.

Who I Want to Reconnect With

What I did walk away with was a new goal. I want to reconnect with the version of myself who never left the house without a sketchbook. The girl who was always doodling something, even if it never turned into anything finished or polished.

I miss that version of myself.

The difference now is perspective. I have years of lived experience, real-world context, and emotional depth to draw from. I’m not looking to recreate the past. I’m looking to bring that instinctive habit of creating into the present.

The sketchbooks didn’t give me a roadmap. They gave me permission to move forward without one.