You Can Heal Through Art, a guest post by Robin Roe

“She’s doing it again.”

I heard a whisper from the back of the class and got that prickling sensation you feel when you know someone’s talking about you. Twelve years old and painfully shy, I kept quiet as I continued sketching faces, something I still find myself doing to this day.

When did I start to need drawing? Was it moving to an isolated house on the outskirts of an isolated town? Remembering now, it feels like the perfect backdrop to the thriller novels I’d one day write. Something to fear and dread was around every corner it seemed, like the high school boys on the bus who would run a hand up your thigh or give you a black eye.