Today, we’re talking about something that you aren’t used to hearing from me.
Have you ever found yourself hunched over a tiny table, gluing on legs the size of matchsticks… and suddenly, the noise in your head goes quiet?
It’s something I’ve felt many times. And over the years, I’ve realized I’m not alone.
Before my Facebook group on miniatures got hacked (still a painful memory and the new one no one seems to find), it was full of people telling stories.
Not just about what they were making, but why they were making it. I remember posts from members who were grieving a loved one, living with chronic illness, or going through something deeply personal.
And again and again, they’d say: “Working on my dollhouse helped me get through it.”
I get that. I’ve been there too. And that’s what this post is about: how crafting miniatures isn’t just a creative hobby—it can be deeply, unexpectedly healing.
When You Can’t Fix Life, You Can Still Fix a Mini Chair
We can’t always control what happens in our lives. Illness, heartbreak, loss—they come without asking. But when you sit down at your desk and pick up that paintbrush or glue bottle, you can make a room just the way you want it.
You can wallpaper a wall. Light a tiny lamp. Give a miniature person the cozy, beautiful life you wish someone could have given you.
There’s comfort in that.
Harvard Health writes about how creative activities support mental health—how making something with your hands can help regulate your mood, lower anxiety, and even reduce symptoms of depression.
→ Read article
Miniatures Help You Grieve Without Saying a Word
One post from my old group stays with me. A woman had lost her daughter. She made a child’s room in 1:12 scale—tiny bed, favorite colors, stuffed animals. She said she couldn’t talk about it with anyone yet, but she could make that room.
I don’t think she was trying to “move on.” I think she was making a space where her feelings could just… exist. Safely. Quietly.
And that’s the power of this hobby. You don’t have to explain anything. You just built.
When You’re in Pain, Miniatures Let You Still Be You
Chronic pain and illness can change everything. You lose energy, routines, and parts of your identity. But with miniatures—even when your body says “no” to everything else—you can still do something meaningful.
During my own health struggles, I’ve had weeks where the only thing I could do was sit down and make a tiny sofa out of cardboard. And you know what? That mattered. It gave me something to look forward to. It made me feel like myself again.
And research backs this up: creative work like crafting can help people manage long-term illness by offering a sense of accomplishment and control.
That Thing Called Flow
You’ve probably heard of the term flow—that feeling when you’re so absorbed in what you’re doing that time disappears. You forget the dishes. The doctor’s appointment. The bills.
All that exists is the dollhouse wallpaper, the glue, the tiny bed you’re building.
Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (don’t worry, I still can’t pronounce it either) described flow as a kind of joyful focus. A state that’s really good for our mental health. And miniature-making? It’s perfect for that.
→ Here’s his TED Talk if you’re curious
The Mini Community Is Real—Even If It’s Online
When I still had my big Facebook group, people would say things like:
- “I’ve never told anyone this before, but…”
- “This is the only place I feel understood.”
- “I thought I was weird for loving this.”
Miniaturists are some of the most generous, funny, and open people I’ve met online. Whether you’re sharing a new build or a life update, there’s this unspoken understanding: we get it.
And those small interactions? They matter.
The Mental Health Foundation says meaningful connection, even virtual, can protect us from loneliness, isolation, and depression.
When a Tiny Project Feels Like a Giant Victory
Not every day is a big, productive day. Sometimes, all I manage is to glue on a lamp, puzzle a piece of wallpaper (or write a tiny bit of a new blog post), but it still feels like a win. Because even in tough times, you made something. You gave shape to a little dream.
And that matters more than most people realize.
So If You’re Going Through Something, Here’s What I Want You to Know:
- You’re not the only one who finds comfort in this tiny world.
- You’re not silly or strange or childish.
- And it’s okay if this hobby is your way of holding on to something good.
Final Thought: Tiny Worlds, Big Healing
I think the reason so many of us love dollhouses and miniatures is because they give us what the real world can’t always offer: a space that’s calm, safe, and ours.
So if you’ve ever felt comforted by the quiet work of building something small, know that it’s not just play. It’s peace. Its purpose. One inch (or cm’s 🙂 ) at a time.
Please share your thoughts below or on my new Facebook group, and I wish you happy crafting!
Kind regards,
Lizzy
Hi everyone!
My name is Lizzy, and I am an amateur miniaturist obsessed with everything in the dollhouse and miniature world, ever since I was a teenager.
So far, I have created 2 dollhouse projects, a backyard shed and a miniature treehouse, tons of DIY dollhouse kits, and “hacked” some.
I also created a fairy garden, and lots of small and simple miniature projects on my YouTube channel. (mostly made from trash or everyday items).
I love to write as well about all things happening in the miniature world, hence the reason why I created this blog!
I wish you happy reading and crafting!
Lizzy
I have loved miniatures since I was 7, when I got my first dollhouse. Even then, I was making “people” out of pipe cleaners and Kleenex tissue. I am now 76, and have not “grown up”. With today’s political turmoil, and after 10 or 15 minutes of the news, I escape by working on miniature rooms as gifts, and dollhouses I’ve had hidden in the attic for decades because “life got in the way”. 2-1/2 years ago, I bought a large colonial dollhouse built by an engineer for a 6-year-old (!) that was a “fixer-upper”. For a wannabe decorator, this has been SO therapeutic!
Hi Elizabeth!
Thanks so much for sharing your story and yes indeed, sometimes life does get in the way, but we tend to come back to our old love don’t we haha?
I wish you great succes with your colonial dollhouse and great fixings ! 🙂
Lizzy
Hi Lizzy –
I just finished a dollhouse I had half-finished maybe 35-40 years ago which was up in my attic all that time, because I had wanted to electrify it, but didn’t know the first thing about electricity (other than “Don’t stick your finger in that socket!”) And I go A.D.D. trying to read instructions that are in electronic engineer lingo (I’m that way with taxes and insurance, too), so it got relegated to the attic while I worked for a living (to support my creative habits), and I took on other interests in the meantime (I created Victorian/Edwardian costumes for my husband and me and went to Victorian dances; I perform in the Boar’s Head & Yule Log Festival in Cleveland’s Trinity Cathedral at Christmastime – made my Elizabethan costume; I sing in various choruses and take voice lessons; and I still sew a lot). Anyway, this dollhouse is a Greenleaf kit that hangs on the wall (very clever); and now that I can get battery-operated lights, I decided to finish it. I wish I could send you pictures of all my dollhouses and boxes I’ve done as gifts for family and friends, but I don’t know how to download photos from my phone to my laptop (I don’t have a 14-year-old here to help me), and I’m not on Facebook, and don’t plan to be. Other than that, thank you for your blog. Miniatures are not a dying interest!
Hi there! 🌸
Thank you so much for your lovely message and sharing your story! I’m in awe of all the things you’ve done, from Victorian dances to Elizabethan costumes to finishing a 40-year-old dollhouse (and a wall-hanging Greenleaf one, no less — those are so clever!).
And it would be awesome if you could share your pictures! Don’t worry, you don’t need a 14-year-old tech whiz to figure it out — I promise it’s simpler than it seems. Here’s an easy way to get your photos from your phone to your laptop:
If you have an iPhone:
Connect your phone to your laptop with the charging cable.
Your laptop should ask if you trust the device — just say yes and enter your phone passcode.
A window should pop up on your laptop (especially if you’re on Windows) to import pictures. If it doesn’t, open the “Photos” app and look for the import option.
Select the photos you want and click import.
If you have an Android phone:
Connect your phone to your laptop using the charging cable.
You may get a little notification on your phone that asks what you want to do with the connection — choose “File Transfer” or “Photo Transfer.”
Your laptop should then show your phone’s folders (like a USB drive).
Open the DCIM folder — that’s where your photos live — and drag the ones you want onto your desktop or into a folder.
And if that still feels a bit tricky, you can always email the pictures to yourself from your phone and open the email on your laptop to download them.
And thank you for your kind words about the blog — you’re proof that miniatures are definitely alive and well. ❤️
Warm hugs,
Lizzy
Thank you, Lizzy!
I envy anyone who has no fear of technology, like little kids (and older people, too) who just play around with phones and figure things out on their own. I hope I can do this without my “A.D.D.” getting in the way! If I succeed, I’ll send you pictures, for sure.
To prove this miniatures thing could be a serious addiction/illness, I recently ordered and received another dollhouse kit – the “Three Gables” kit I saw on miniatures.com, which is going out of business (sob). It’s larger than I thought, and I have nowhere to put it in my house! And since these are loving works of art that become like babies to me, I have no plans to give it away to someone. (How selfish of me!)
We’ve lived in this sweet Tudor house for 41 years, and (hopefully) have no plans on moving. But both of us have collector issues – the house is full of books, knick-knacks, chochkes, sentimental things, and my artsy-fartsy supplies (my attic is full of fabric, clothes, art from college days, not to mention miniature supplies).
Am I a hoarder? Is my husband, too? He goes to estate sales to pick up books for the Case Book Store that sells them once a year, and he can’t resist picking up items that didn’t sell and are being thrown out. This includes electronics and stuff he figures is scrap that he can recycle. I try selling or donating things I have no use for that he brings home, but it gets overwhelming.
We have bookshelves in every room – the kitchen, dining room, living room, and all three bedrooms (not the bathrooms, although books and magazines do end up there in the “library”). I’ve even built shelves over windows and doorways to put chochkes and books on, and glass shelves in front of the leaded glass bay windows to display crystal and glasswear. Because I like to file and keep things in order, people come in and are delighted with the charm of the place, in spite of every bit of wall space being covered with pictures and shelves of books. The house is full of us!
I’m 76, and my husband is going on 84. This is not good – I pity anyone who has to clean out our house after our demise!
And who gets my dollhouses and miniatures? Maybe a grandniece, who showed interest a couple years ago. I put together a little Greenleaf dollhouse for her 10th birthday. But people don’t want to spend thousands of dollars on dollhouses (I know that’s what mine would be worth, since I put a lot of work and money into them) – at least I don’t know anyone who would.
Just thoughts I’m spewing out that have been rolling around in my head for a long time. But thanks for listening!
Hugs,
Liz