In my experience, the answer to that question is a definitive no! However, crocheting has been incredibly healing since I began. Keep reading to learn more.

There’s baby Francis.

This plush doggy bag was named Scotty. I used to keep my precious coins in this bag, and I carried him around everywhere.
Little did I know I would return to the world of plushies in my adulthood.

If you tuned into my last blog post you know how important fiber arts, crochet in particular, were in helping me sit more comfortably in art, play, and imperfection. I am a perpetual collector of new hobbies; I have accumulated materials for painting, drawing, nail art, bow-making. I briefly invested in sewing classes but put my lessons on pause when I realized owning my own sewing machine is not yet in the cards for me. You name the craft, I probably have the tools needed for it lying around somewhere. This means that I have taken up all sorts of fiber crafts–crochet, embroidery, knitting. While embroidery and knitting are close behind, no other craft has kept my attention quite as much as crochet.

When I first started crocheting, I focused on wearables–beanies, scarves, sweaters. After months of learning the basic stitches, frogging my projects, and putting down crochet altogether for a few months, I finally completed my first project–a cat-ear beanie for my friend’s birthday. There was something deeply satisfying about the whole process. At this time, I was navigating impostor syndrome as a first generation student and struggling with severe undiagnosed OCD. As a result, my body and mind were unable to relax; I felt an intense sense of fear at all times–rapid breathing, quick heartbeat, shortness of breath, etc. The repetitive nature of looping the hook around the yarn to make stitches offered me an opportunity to redirect my energy, connect with my body, and regain a sense of control. I’m not saying crochet “cured” my OCD (my therapist regularly reminds me that it’s not about a “cure” but overall wellness, which entails self-compassion and learning to sit with uncertainty, thank you Andrea!), but it gave me something to focus my energy into. While crocheting, I allowed myself to pause my overthinking about the past or the future and sit in the present. I had the opportunity to interact with my body in a new way; I had no idea my hands were capable of creating so beautifully. It filled me with immense joy to gift my loved ones thoughtful, handmade items; I hoped they could feel my affection woven into the stitches, the energy and effort I put into each gift.

It also allowed me to reconnect with a younger version of myself, one that allowed herself to experience whimsy and felt immense joy with small things. I have always loved cute, plush toys—small animals with huge, googly eyes; giant teddy bears. I was known to carry a plush doggy bag with me everywhere. (remember the photo from above?) Imagine my delight when I learned I could make my very own plush friends. Following a video tutorial or written pattern, I could shape my project into a cat, turtle, tiger, or dinosaur. With the right safety eye placement and a little embroidery, I could give my plushies character. I give them names; keep them together so they don’t get lonely; hug them close when I’m in need of self-regulation and comfort. I could make for myself, and my loved ones, all the small toys we yearned for as small children. I could make for my mom a toy she could cuddle with now, something to bring the joy of art and whimsy to her busy, adult life. It doesn’t matter that we’re adults now, beyond the age designated as appropriate to play with plushies, dolls, or toys. Some may never have had the opportunity to play at all, even as children.

Crochet permits me to fully immerse myself in the joys of childlike play and extend that to those around me. It grounds me and grants me an opportunity to let go of my worries and sit in the present moment, even if for a short period of time. Though it may seem that the most important thing is the end product, the satisfaction of making something remains even when I am unsatisfied with a wonky beanie or a lopsided cat. It’s about having allowed myself to try something new and to make space for this creative hobby I love so much. It’s about deep breathing and meditation while I make my stitches; feeling a sense of connectedness with my body and its movements; and slowing down, pausing, and taking breaks. The yarn and hook will be there for me when I need it; it doesn’t demand results or output from me. It is simply an outlet.

So, what are you waiting for? I know you’ve been considering learning to crochet. Pick up a crochet hook (5mm is my suggestion) and a DK weight or Chunky yarn and let yourself try something new. Start with a small square, work yourself up to something more challenging if you feel up for it. Sit and breathe through the process—the frustration, the relaxation, the sense of accomplishment, the joy.

Can Crochet Cure your Childhood Trauma?

From Fear of Failure to Finding Joy in Imperfection & Play