Make it for YOU – Not just for others

If you love to make things, chances are you’ve given most of your creations away. Gifts, holidays, little tokens of love. But when was the last time you made something just for you? In this episode, we’re giving ourselves permission to create with joy, curiosity, and a little bit of playfulness—without needing a reason or a recipient. Whether it’s a cozy blanket, a garden marker, or a batch of spice rub, let’s talk about why crafting for your own home and heart isn’t selfish—it’s soul-sustaining. 

Transcript

Episode 177 - Make it for YOU – Not just for others

There’s something magical about making things with our hands. Something that speaks to the heart and says, “Look what I created. Look what I made out of nothing but time, thought, and maybe a little bit of mess.”

But let me ask you this—when was the last time you made something just for yourself?

No occasion. No holiday. No birthday, no “thinking of you” tag tied on with string. Just a little gift from your hands to your home, or your garden, or even your own soul.

If it’s been a while, don’t worry—you’re not alone. So many of us who love to make things tend to fall into that same little trap: we’re always making for someone else.

Now don’t get me wrong, that’s a beautiful thing. There’s so much joy in giving something handmade. A quilt made with love. A tin of cookies warm from the oven. A card written in your own handwriting with a pressed flower tucked inside. Those are treasures.

But today, I want to give you full permission to turn the tables just a bit.

To make something that doesn’t need a thank-you note. Or applause. Or a place in someone else’s house. To make something that’s for you. Your home. Your life. Your joy.

And yes, I can already hear someone out there whispering, “But that’s selfish.”

Let me go ahead and say it—no, it’s not. It’s nourishing. It’s thoughtful. It’s grounding.

Think of it this way: If you had a friend who was running around making beautiful things for everyone else but never took a moment to sit down and enjoy the process for herself, wouldn’t you gently encourage her to pause? To make something that delights her own eyes, or warms her own space?

You would. And that’s the same grace we need to give ourselves.

There’s a kind of simple, soul-deep joy that comes when you create something for your own life. And it doesn’t have to be big, or time-consuming, or Instagram-worthy. It just has to be real.

Maybe it’s sewing a few pretty cloth napkins because you’re tired of paper ones. Or crocheting a cozy throw blanket that lives on the back of your couch instead of being wrapped in tissue and gifted away. Maybe it’s something totally unexpected—like painting a flower mural on the wall of your laundry room, just because it makes you smile when you sort socks.

It’s not about perfection. It’s about permission.

Permission to pour some of your creativity back into the life you’re already living.

And really, that’s part of what handmade living is all about. It’s not just about being thrifty or clever or productive. It’s about living in a way that reflects who you are—your values, your memories, your sense of humor. It’s about surrounding yourself with things that tell your story.

Now I’ll be honest. For a long time, I had a habit of making things and immediately giving them away. I’d knit a scarf and think, “Oh, this would be perfect for so-and-so.” I’d bake a pie and carry it to a neighbor. I’d make a set of embroidered tea towels and wrap them up as a hostess gift. And while I loved every second of giving, I eventually realized—I didn’t have a single handmade thing in my own kitchen.

Not one.

It was like I was the cobbler with no shoes—only in this case, the homemaker with nothing handmade in her own home.

So one day, I decided to make something just for me. A set of potholders. I picked out fabric I liked—not what I thought someone else would like. I stitched them at my own pace. And when it was done, I made a batch of cookies and used them to remove the tray from the oven.

And would you believe it? I think those cookies tasted just a little bit better. Not because I did anything different with the recipe, but because it reminded me that I deserve to enjoy the things I make, too.

Those handmade potholders told me, “This home matters. You matter. This moment matters.”

So now, I make it a point to create a little something for myself or my home every now and then. Nothing fancy. Sometimes it’s as simple as adding homemade labels to the pantry jars or bottling a batch of herb vinegar to sit by the sink. Sometimes it’s making a garden marker with hand-painted lettering. And sometimes—it’s going all in on a rainy-day project that turns into a new tradition, like stitching a new set of placemats or warping up my loom to make a new table runner.

And let’s be honest—there’s also a bit of fun in it. When you’re making for yourself, you can get a little playful. Try that bold fabric. Add the ruffle. Use the buttons shaped like chickens just because they make you giggle. There’s no pressure to impress anyone. It’s just you, doing something that makes your space feel more like you.

That’s a kind of joy we don’t talk about enough.

Because when you put your time and creativity into something that improves your daily life—even just a tiny bit—you’re saying, “This life I’m living? It matters. It’s worth the effort.”

So whether it’s a handmade potholder, a hand-tied bouquet from your own garden, or a new batch of lotion bars made from beeswax and lavender—you’re not being indulgent. You’re being intentional.

And those little things add up. A handmade life isn’t built in one grand project. It’s built in bits and pieces. One homemade scrub. One stitched pillow. One hand-poured candle at a time.

These are the quiet ways we take care of ourselves.

And I don’t just mean the soothing-spa-day kind of care. I mean the kind that says, “I know what brings me comfort. I know what brings me peace. I know how to put love into the corners of my day.”

So maybe you knit yourself a shawl for cool mornings on the porch. Or stitch a sachet to tuck in your pillowcase. Maybe you make garden markers from old spoons or build a little trellis for your climbing beans. Maybe you write yourself a letter and tuck it into the pages of your journal, or you embroider a quote that always makes you laugh and hang it by the back door.

There are no rules.

If it makes you smile, it counts.

And yes, I know life can get busy. The to-do lists pile up, and sometimes we’re just happy to get supper on the table and the laundry halfway folded. But that’s where the beauty of making for you really comes in.

Because those are the moments that need the most care. The in-between ones. The everyday ones.

That’s when a handmade dishcloth or a basket of homemade fire starters or a hand-drawn meal planner can be more than just a project—they become helpers. Companions. Reminders that even in the busiest seasons, you’re still a creative soul.

And if you’ve ever walked into a room and spotted something you made—a little thing with your fingerprints on it—you know how comforting that is. It anchors you. It makes your house feel like a home. Like a place where someone lives who knows how to love.

And you are worth that love.

You don’t need a reason to make something for yourself beyond the fact that you are here, living, trying your best, and walking through life with a heart full of care.

So maybe this week, you start with something small. A handmade bookmark. A jar of homemade spice rub. A new batch of granola with your favorite mix-ins. Or maybe you pull out that project you started three years ago and finally finish it—for you.

Make it useful. Make it lovely. Make it quirky. But most of all—make it yours.

And if anyone asks who it’s for, you just smile and say, “Me.”

No explanation needed.

So let’s start reclaiming the joy of making for ourselves—not instead of others, but alongside it. Because a handmade life isn’t just about what you give to the world. It’s about how you nurture your own little corner of it, too.

And when we do that—when we take the time to pour creativity into our homes, our gardens, our wardrobes, our routines—we don’t just make things. We make moments.

Moments of peace. Of delight. Of lighthearted joy.

And honestly? I think we could all use a few more of those.

So go on—make something this week that’s just for you. Wrap yourself in the joy of it. And then? Maybe pour a cup of tea, sit by the window, and enjoy it fully, no strings attached.