So when someone says “You’re so talented,” it sometimes feels like they’re skipping over the eight years of daily felting, trial and error, and quiet persistence it took to get here. As if it all just happened—when the reality was anything but effortless.
For a while, that bothered me. I felt unseen—like the work I had poured into my craft was invisible, erased by the assumption that I’d always been this way.
But over time, I’ve had to shift my mindset.
I’ve learned that when someone says “you’re so talented,” they’re really saying:
“Your work moved me.”
“You’ve created something beautiful.”
“I wish I could do that too.”
Now, I let myself receive those words with grace. Not as a dismissal of the journey—but as recognition of where it’s led.
Still, I think it’s important to talk about how we get here. Because talent isn’t just something you have—it’s something you grow.
And my story? It’s one of growing.
My needle felting journey didn’t begin with confidence. It started with curiosity, a needle, a bit of wool, and a healthy dose of trial and error. My early pieces? They were lumpy, uneven, and let’s just say… lovingly “wonky.”
I’d scroll through Instagram and see beautifully lit photos of flawless felted creatures, perfectly shaped and posed. Meanwhile, mine looked like they’d just rolled out of bed after a long nap.
I didn’t know it at the time, but what I was experiencing was comparison syndrome—that creeping feeling of falling behind, not being good enough, or thinking someone else’s success meant I didn’t belong.
It nearly made me quit.
Not because I didn’t love needle felting—but because I couldn’t stop comparing myself to people who were further along.
Eventually, though, I realized something important: comparison isn’t the enemy—it’s how we use it that matters.
Instead of letting it shut me down, I started using it to learn. I studied the work that inspired me, not to copy it, but to ask better questions. How did they create that shape? What techniques are they using? What can I try next? I stopped measuring myself against others and started measuring myself against who I was yesterday.
And then—I just kept going.
Not because I felt talented.
But because I loved the process more than I feared the imperfection
I’ve needle felted almost every single day for the past eight years. I’m entirely self-taught—no formal training, no shortcuts. Just persistence, passion, and the kind of patience you build over time.
Now, when people see my work, they often assume I’m naturally gifted.
But the truth is:
I’m not gifted. I’m dedicated.
What looks like talent is actually the result of thousands of hours, dozens of “failed” projects, and a steady willingness to show up even when things didn’t turn out how I hoped.
Let’s talk about that word—talent.
We often associate talent with something innate. And yes, some people do have a natural gift—a sense for proportion, color, form, or expression that comes intuitively. They pick up a felting needle and something beautiful just happens.
That’s natural talent. It’s real, and it’s powerful.
But it’s not the whole story.
There’s another kind of talent. One that builds, slowly and steadily, out of practice and passion. That’s learned talent.
It might take longer to bloom. It may not turn heads right away. But learned talent is deep. It’s durable. It’s earned. And for many of us—including me—it’s where our strength truly lies.
The more I’ve grown in this craft, the more I’ve come to believe that talent shows up in many different ways. It’s not just about realism or perfection.
Maybe your strength is in telling visual stories through your pieces.
Maybe you’re a master of color and composition.
Maybe you’re incredible at teaching and making others feel capable.
Or maybe you’re a quiet problem-solver who sees potential where others see mistakes.
These are all forms of talent. They just don’t always show up in a side-by-side comparison grid on social media.
A Just-for-Fun Quiz for Curious Creatives
Answer honestly and see where your strengths might lie!
1. Your first needle felted piece was…
A) Surprisingly good—I shocked myself
B) A little lumpy, but I enjoyed making it
C) Awkward, but I could see improvement
D) A mess, but I laughed the whole time
E) Plain, but full of potential
2. When trying a new technique, you usually…
A) Dive in instinctively
B) Watch tutorials and try again
C) Practice until it sticks
D) Add your own twist immediately
E) Analyze what worked and what didn’t
3. What frustrates you most?
A) Feeling stuck after early progress
B) Comparing yourself to others
C) Struggling to match your vision
D) Feeling boxed in by structure
E) Not being taken seriously
4. What excites you most about felting?
A) Realism and detail
B) Watching your growth
C) Helping others learn
D) Telling a story
E) Solving creative challenges
5. How often do you felt?
A) When inspiration hits
B) A few times a week
C) Every day or close to it
D) In wild creative bursts
E) When I’m puzzling through a new idea
6. When someone compliments your work, you feel…
A) Flattered, but unsure
B) Grateful, but modest
C) Energized and proud
D) Surprised, but encouraged
E) Validated—especially by the small details
Mostly A’s: Natural Technician
You have a natural feel for shape and detail, but continued growth will deepen your gift.
Mostly B’s: Learned Artist
You’ve built your skills over time—and that dedication is your superpower.
Mostly C’s: Mentor Maker
You’re a teacher at heart. Helping others lights you up.
Mostly D’s: Imaginative Explorer
You lead with curiosity and bring your own creative flair to everything you do.
Mostly E’s: Thoughtful Problem-Solver
You thrive on analyzing, fixing, and perfecting—your quiet brilliance shines through.
So now, when someone says, “You’re so talented,” I smile.
Not because I was born with it—but because I know what they’re really seeing. They’re seeing evidence of love, time, and persistence. They’re not skipping the journey—they’re admiring where it led.
And if you’re somewhere in the middle of that journey right now—comparing, doubting, pushing through—I want to remind you:
You don’t need to be a natural to be extraordinary.
You just need to keep showing up.
Talent grows. Confidence grows. You grow.
And one day, someone will look at your work and say,
“You’re so talented.”
And you’ll smile too—because you’ll know exactly what that means.
With love and wool,
Christie
