The broader conversation. Women who disappear from their own stories. Showing up in hard seasons. The cost of not being in the photographs. This is where presence becomes a deliberate choice – and where the argument for documentation goes beyond photography entirely.
Excerpt/preview text (for blog index page):
Tell me if this has ever happened to you: you book something exciting, and almost immediately a different voice shows up telling you it’s the wrong choice. That’s imposter syndrome, and it hits hardest when there’s no one else to justify the decision for.
The Story Doesn’t Need Permission Read Post »
The decisions that shaped you didn’t happen at the milestones. They happened in the middle. Here’s why those chapters deserve to be documented – and who gets to tell that story.
Who Gets to Tell Your Story? The Messy Middle Deserves to Be Remembered Read Post »
We all carry a mental checklist of conditions that must be met before we’re “allowed” to be fully seen – but that checklist is the lie. The portraits you keep postponing aren’t a reward for arriving; they’re a receipt of the chapter you’re living right now.
The “Someday” Lie: Why You’re Hiding in Plain Sight Read Post »
There’s a specific kind of discomfort that comes when you try to show up as who you’re becoming. It’s not imposter syndrome. It’s the necessary, uncomfortable work of stepping out of who you were – and into who you are.
Stop Playing the Supporting Character in Your Own Life Read Post »
Most women are the default documentarians – the ones behind the camera, holding the history, missing from their own frame. This is about naming the lie that keeps us there, and what it looks like to finally show up.
The Invisible Woman: Why So Many of Us Are Ghosts in Our Own Stories Read Post »
I stood on a bungy platform in New Zealand for three full minutes, silently begging someone to push me off. Nobody did. That turned out to be the point.
Nobody Is Going to Push You Off the Bridge Read Post »
You don’t hate those pictures because of how you look. You hate them because the camera didn’t feel safe. Here’s what actually changes that.
Why You Hate Pictures of Yourself Read Post »
There is a version of you that exists right now that will never exist again. She is fully present. And she is almost entirely undocumented.
Leaving Evidence That You Were Here Read Post »
We tend to only want to be photographed when we feel ready. When we’re thinner, or more rested, or healed. And so we wait. What that means is our visual record ends up full of the good days, and practically devoid of the harder times. The seasons that actually changed us.
But here’s what I know now: the images from our hardest seasons don’t freeze us in the worst moment. They prove we had the strength to survive it.
The Photos You’ll Be Grateful For Later Read Post »
Ask a woman to find ten photos of her children in under 30 seconds. She’ll have them. Ask her to find three photos of herself that she actually loves? That’s an entirely different conversation.
You Could Be Missing From Your Own Story, and Not Even Know It Read Post »
