The Healing Power of Textile Art
When I first picked up a bundle of cotton cord, I wasn’t thinking about art, let alone healing. I was simply looking for something to keep my hands busy in the quiet hours when my son was sleeping and the world outside had come to a stop. But as I tied knot after knot, I realised something bigger was happening. Textile art was becoming my therapy, a way to hold myself together when life felt too heavy.
Finding Calm in Repetition
There’s something deeply soothing about the slow, repetitive rhythm of knotting and weaving. Each movement is small, almost meditative, like a steady breath. The more I worked with thread and fiber, the more it helped me quiet my mind.
After Luca was born, I felt the weight of loneliness during the Covid lockdowns. Prash was working nights, sleeping during the day, and I was navigating new motherhood in isolation. At that time macramé became my anchor. Knot by knot, it gave me a rhythm to hold on to, a way to process the stillness and the noise all at once.
Processing Grief and Change
But textile art didn’t only help with loneliness, it also gave me a way to carry grief. In March 2017, I lost a close family member to suicide. The shock and sadness of that loss lingered for years, long after the world expected me to move on. Creating became a quiet, nonverbal way to work through that pain.
Later, I created the Kintsugi Series as a reflection of this journey. Inspired by the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold, these pieces celebrate imperfection and resilience. The threads woven tight, the empty spaces left open… all of it became a reminder that beauty can exist in brokenness.
Searching for Belonging
But healing doesn’t only come from looking back, it also shows up in how we navigate where we are now.
When we moved back to Portugal in 2023 after more than a decade in the UK, I thought I knew what to expect. I knew it would be hard, but it was even harder than I imagined.
It’s a strange kind of lostness, to return home and feel like a stranger. My hometown has changed. My friends have changed. But most of all, I have changed. I’m not the same person who left, and I don’t fit here in the way I once did.
Don’t get me wrong, I love it here. Our son is so happy, and that fills me with joy. But at the same time, I carry this quiet ache of not fully belonging. I didn’t feel like I belonged in the UK, and now, back in Portugal, I feel it again. Maybe this is the reality for many emigrants. That when you return, you’re not really “returning,” because you’re not the same person anymore.
And once again, textile art has been my lifeline. It gives me an anchor when everything else feels unfamiliar, a space where I always belong. Thread by thread, it holds me when the ground beneath my feet feels uncertain.
Stepping Back Into Connection
For a long time, creating alone in my studio was the only space where I felt safe. So when I started teaching workshops, I was terrified. After so much trauma, I had retreated into my shell, and the thought of standing in front of a group again made me incredibly nervous.
But the participants, a wonderful group of seniors in my hometown, welcomed me with patience, kindness, and so much positive energy. They made me feel at ease and reminded me that healing doesn’t just happen in solitude. It also happens in community, in shared laughter, in learning together. I realised I wasn’t only teaching them, I was also learning from them. And that, too, became part of my healing journey.
Why Textile Art Heals
So what is it about textile art that carries this healing power?
It slows us down. Knotting, weaving, crocheting, they all demand patience, pulling us into the present moment.
It engages the senses. The texture of fiber in your hands, the sound of scissors cutting, the sight of threads forming patterns, it grounds us.
It creates flow. When you’re fully absorbed in making, worries soften and time seems to stretch.
It tells stories. Every thread holds memory, emotion, meaning, sometimes things we can’t put into words.
For me, it was never about creating “perfect” art. It was about giving shape to feelings I didn’t know how to voice, and finding comfort in the simple act of making.
A Thread That Holds
Textile art has been many things to me: a lifeline during loneliness, a way to carry grief, a bridge back to community. It’s where I found calm, resilience, and connection, one knot at a time.
Whether you’re making with your own hands or living with a handmade piece in your home, textile art holds a quiet power. It can comfort, connect, and remind us of the beauty in simply being.
And maybe belonging isn’t tied to a place at all, but to the threads we create, the ones that hold us steady, wherever we are.
For me, it’s more than art. It’s healing.
Try It for Yourself
If you’re curious to explore textile art as a form of self-care, here are a few simple ways to begin:
Start small. Try knotting a keychain, weaving a coaster, or crocheting a simple square. Even tiny projects can feel grounding.
Focus on the process, not the result. Let go of perfection. The rhythm of your hands is where the calm lives.
Use what you have. Old yarn, leftover cord, or even fabric scraps you cut from an old t-shirt are enough to begin.
Make it mindful. Create a quiet moment, breathe deeply, and let each knot or stitch carry you into presence.
Share the experience. Join a workshop, craft circle, or simply make alongside a friend. Healing often grows in community.
You don’t need to call yourself an artist to feel the benefits. You just need to pick up some thread and let it guide you.