The Creative Force That Never Left Me

I’m working on my third degree right now.

I already have a degree in Robotics and Automation and another in CAD, and I’m about to finish my third one in Multimedia Graphic Design. On the surface, that probably looks all over the place. Robotics. CAD. Graphic design. It sounds like three completely different paths.

And honestly, they are.

But at the same time, they all connect through one thing I did not fully understand about myself until recently.

Creativity.

To really understand how I got here, you have to understand where I came from.

I’m from the east side of San Jose, California. The ESSJ. If you know that side of San Jose, then you know it’s not exactly the best place to start life. I grew up around gang violence, crime, and poverty. It’s the kind of place where survival comes first. A lot of people get stuck there. A lot of people never really leave, even if they physically do. That mentality never made sense to me. Even when I was young, I felt like there had to be more.

I always felt different growing up.

Not better than other people. Just different.

I looked at things differently. I approached things differently. When school gave me a chance to be creative, I didn’t just do the assignment. I got excited. I wanted to go way beyond what was asked, even if there was no extra credit, no reward, nothing in it for me except the feeling of making something good. There was always something in me pulling me toward that.

I remember in fifth grade I had an assignment to write a fictional story. The second the teacher explained it, the whole story started playing in my head. I couldn’t wait to get home and write it. The assignment was supposed to be one or two pages.

I wrote over six.

I stayed up all night working on it because I was locked in. I was proud of it. I was excited to turn it in.

The next day, my teacher pulled me aside. I thought he was about to tell me I did a great job.

Instead, he told me it was too long and I needed to rewrite it down to one or two pages.

That crushed me.

I didn’t understand it then, and honestly, I still don’t fully understand it now. I gave everything I had to that assignment. I wasn’t trying to show off. I just had something in me that wanted to create. That wanted to do more. That moment stuck with me.

Looking back, I think that was one of the first times I realized I wasn’t wired the same as everybody else when it came to creativity.

And it wasn’t just writing. I drew all the time too.

There’s another moment I still remember from high school. I was a sophomore, and a few seniors came into one of our classes. We got split into groups and started talking. I don’t even remember why they were there, but I remember one question they asked.

They asked, “What do you wish you had more time to do in your life?”

When it got to me, I said, “Draw.”

That was my real answer.

Every other person in my group said they wished they had more time to hang out with friends.

I remember sitting there feeling weird. Like I was off somehow. Like why am I the only one saying this? Why do I feel pulled toward something nobody else seems to care about in the same way?

At that age, it made me feel bad about myself. It made me feel disconnected.

Now I look back and realize that was just another sign of who I really was.

After high school, I joined the Army at 17 in 2003. I went through Basic Training, Airborne School, and RIP to become a U.S. Army Ranger.

The military took over my life for the next 15 years.

In the beginning, I still drew a lot. It helped me pass time. It helped me deal with things. It gave me a way to quiet everything down in my head. But over time, that part of me seemed like it disappeared. I was gaining rank. I was deploying to Iraq and Afghanistan over and over. Life got heavy. Responsibilities got bigger. And eventually I stopped drawing.

Or at least I thought I did.

A few weeks ago, I had to go to an art gallery for one of my classes. While I was there, the head of the gallery gave a speech. During that talk, he said something that hit me hard. He talked about how art is way more tied into our lives than people realize. He talked about how art can show up in the extra effort. In the details. In the care you put into something when you do more than just the basics.

And when he said that, it was like something in me got cracked open.

It hit me all at once.

I started thinking about my whole life. My military career. My first two degrees. The way I always approached things. The way I could never just do the minimum.

Whenever I was given a task in the Army, I always pushed to do more than just complete it. I wanted it done right. I wanted it done better than expected. I wanted it to mean something. Same thing with robotics. Same thing with CAD. I never just checked the box. I always went further.

And for a long time, I didn’t really know why.

I just thought that was how I was.

But after that speech, I realized what it really was.

That extra effort was my creative side trying to come out.

It never left me.

Even when I wasn’t drawing.

Even when I wasn’t painting.

Even when I was deployed.

Even when I was deep in technical work.

Even when life pulled me away from what I thought creativity was supposed to look like.

It was still there.

It was in the way I solved problems.

It was in the way I built things.

It was in the way I handled responsibility.

It was in the way I refused to just do enough.

That part of me was always alive. I just didn’t have the words for it yet.

Now that I’m finishing my degree in multimedia graphic design, I feel that creative drive hard. Every assignment matters to me. I want to do the best work I can every time. I want to push my ideas further. I want to make things that actually hit. That effort has paid off too. Some of my projects have been used by instructors as examples for future classes. I was even offered a job because of the level of work I was putting out.

But more important than any of that is what I finally realized about myself.

Creativity is not just something I do.

It’s part of who I am.

It always has been.

It was there when I was a kid writing too much.

It was there when I was the only one who wanted more time to draw.

It was there in the Army.

It was there in robotics.

It was there in CAD.

And now it’s fully alive in design.

That realization felt good. Real good.

Because for a long time, I felt different without understanding why. And now I know. That creative force in me has been driving me my whole life. It has pushed me to do more, to make more, to care more, and to build a life that actually means something to me.

So I guess the point of all this is this:

If you’re creative, that part of you does not just disappear.

You can ignore it.

You can bury it.

Life can beat it down for a while.

But if it’s really in you, it will keep finding ways to come out.

It will show up in your work.

In your standards.

In your ideas.

In the way you carry yourself.

In the way you refuse to be average.

And if you really learn how to tap into it, it becomes more than just a talent.

It becomes a weapon.

A gift.

A force.

A superpower.

Most people won’t understand it.

But that doesn’t make it any less real.

It just means it’s yours.