You look in the mirror and second-guess.
You pull at the waistband, suck it in, turn sideways.
You’ve mastered the art of being invisible — even in your own story.

I get it. I’ve lived that.

For years, I struggled with anxiety and body dysmorphia. I picked myself apart in silence. Even on good days, it felt like I was never enough.
Too soft. Too much. Not enough of what the world wanted me to be.

But here’s what changed everything for me:
Photography.

Not just taking pictures — but seeing women, like me, step in front of the camera... nervous, shaking, whispering, "I don’t know if I can do this."
And then — watching them come alive.
Watching them see themselves, maybe for the first time in a long time.
And I thought: what if every woman could feel that?
That powerful. That free.