I started crocheting during finals as a way to escape studying, despite my endless feed of crochet videos “having nothing to do with it.”
My first granny square looked like a deformed pizza, but I kept practicing and slowly became more confident.
Months later, I made my mom a scarf from three mismatched sale yarns for her birthday, never expecting her to cry when she opened it.
She wears it every winter and proudly says, “My daughter made this,” reminding me that every frustrating stitch was worth it.