I’m just starting to find my rhythm and creative voice in my early twenties while growing my independence. It’s taken me longer than most people around me, or at least it feels that way. While peers were getting internships and jobs, I’ve been navigating a world that often moves too fast. Being a late bloomer comes with a strange mix of pride and pain. There’s the frustration of feeling like you’re falling behind and watching others sprint while you’re still lacing your shoes. But there’s also a quiet touch of magic in blooming late. I’ve had time to observe my environment on a deeper level, to grow my roots before stretching toward the sun. 

Just like with everything else, there’s pros and cons to someone born a late bloomer. The ups? I know myself better now with deeper understanding. I follow pop culture icon trends but don’t let them take control of my work. Instead I pursue artwork arising from truth that resonates with me. My neurodivergence gives me a unique lens on the world. Like any artist, I still feel doubt and wonder why I seem to evolve later than most people. Lately I’ve come to believe there’s no such thing as the right time to bloom, I’m just me.

So if you’re a late bloomer too, just remember that some of us take longer than others to unfold in search of our identity. When we do, we bring something distinct, something real, something worth waiting for. I made this image for all the late bloomers out there who are building their confidence. My advice, just keep growing.