Creative Scars: Exercises to Manage Psychological Wounds
(Or Why Your 3rd Grade Teacher Might Still Be Living Rent-Free in Your Brain)
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Let’s start with the thing no one wants to admit:
You didn’t outgrow creativity.
You buried it.
Not because you got old or because you’re “left-brained.” (Ugh, that’s not even a real thing).
You buried it because someone, somewhere along the way, told you your dragon had too many legs. Or your poem was too “dark.” Or your PowerPoint idea wasn’t “on brand.” You got burned, and that burn left a scar.
My collaborator, Dr. Spencer Harrison, calls these creativity scars. A guy that knows how to create awesome infographics…
Why are these creativity scars and what can you do about them?
Because they’re why the majority of adults avoid thinking outside the box like it’s radioactive waste….
We’re not talking about cute little insecurities. These are deep, psychological wounds—inflicted in classrooms, boardrooms, studios, and brainstorming sessions by the self-appointed gatekeepers of “good taste.”
What Is a Creativity Scar?
A creativity scar is the psychic equivalent of getting pantsed in gym class while trying to express yourself. It’s what forms when:
A teacher tells you your story doesn’t make sense.
A parent says, “That’s not how you draw a horse.”
A boss calls your pitch “a little weird” in front of the room.
These experiences calcify into belief systems:
“I’m not creative.”
“My ideas are stupid.”
“I’m better off sticking to what I know.”
By the time we’re 25, many of us have the artistic confidence of a potted fern.
But here’s the mindfuck: the people saying these things? Still wildly creative. The collages they made to express their scars? Haunted, yes. But also brilliant. Visceral. Raw.
One person glued a broken lightbulb under a toy tank. Another? A paper heart behind bars. A third cut out a figure made entirely of negative space. I mean—damn.
The injury never erased the talent. It just taught them to hide it.
“Just a sketch,”
says. No, it’s not. It captures the myopic vision when turning inward in pain beautifully. You know her, part of her, from just a glimpse. And you know you can tell her about that panic attack you felt because it’s clear, she would understand and turn toward you.Below, I’ll explain why these scars matter and give you 5 reflections to heal yourself and 5 workshop exercises to help others do the same…