Boudoir was an accident
Look, if you're anything like I am, you probably follow a million and one different people on instagram, right? You know them, (sort of) you probably recognize their icon (you know what I mean!) and you probably have a decent understanding of what their biz is (kind of).
But...maybe you don't really KNOW them, you know? Like...you know that I photograph boudoir you probably know that I have dogs, and that I'm getting married, and you probably have a pretty good idea of what the studio looks like...
What if I told you boudoir was a complete accident?
Stay with me- I know that's a reach.
In 2018, my brilliant, quirky, and incredibly stubborn dad lost his battle with prostate cancer, and my life was turned upside down. Overnight, I went from trying to make it to my shift on time and managing a fledgling newborn photography career to being his medical proxy, arranging his cremation, coordinating the extradition of my little brother from Africa, and becoming the trustee of his trust and the exeutrix of his estate.
Even just remembering it gives me a little PTSD (thank HEAVENS for a wonderful therapist).
Up until that time I didn't even know what most of those things were, never mind understanding the sheer weight of those responsibilities.
The next six months were a blur or trying to balance my grief with the unending list of tasks related to the death of a loved one, and I felt like most days I was just precariously treading water. I was learning something new every day, constantly living in fear that I wasn't executing his last wishes appropriately, and tying to unpack all of my own internal shit that was bubbling up underneath.
Who am I, really? I would wonder. Who do I want to be. Why photography? Why not just work a 9-5? CAN I continue working as a nurse? Especially when I feel like it's killing me most day?
And what the FUCK is up with my body image??
I spent most days floating around and never feeling even remotely grounded. In fact, the notion that I COULD feel at home in my skin felt laughable to me. And I masked that, a lot, with changing the way I dressed, or styled my hair, or the ways that I would show up to different people.
It's comical to see pictures from around that time because I barely recognize this girl.
And then, On July 8th, 2018, I said FUCK IT. I'm letting loose. And boy, did I ever...
I spent the day drinking WAY too much and getting absolutely friend in the summer sun as we floated the Saco river. Those who know, know, but for those of you fortunate enough to NOT be familiar with the Saco river and its reputation, let's just say the locall hospital staff dreads floating season.
Very long story short, I was tremendously drunk and took a running stumble off of a ledge that I really had no business being on. And instead of jumping feet first into the water, I took a nose dive into the rocks below me.
I'll spare more most of the gory details, but 60+ stitches and a gnarly concussion later, I was in a world of hurt.
I spent the next few months forced to deal with the years of unresolved body dysmorphia, terrible limiting self beliefs, and a TON of internalized self loathing.
It was if the universe said- Listen up. No more of this. You want to run? Well now you're benched.
And so I did. I looked at all of the ways that I was projecting my own desperate need for perfection onto others and how sincerely harmful that was, not only in my personal life but in my artwork. I was taking this image of what I thought the perfect family, or the perfect baby, or the perfect mom looked like, and I was glorifying that.
I was COMPLETELY missing the point.
When I finally found boudoir, it was as if the veil had been lifted, and I was finally seeing mySELF though this unfiltered lens.
Imperfections...I started to look at them differently. I reexamined my relationship with that word.
I started to love them.
I looked for all of the ways that make us "imperfect", or "broken" or "damanced" and I started to LOVE them. I listened when my moms told me their pregnancy journeys, and I breathed in how hard, and terrifying, and challenging motherhood was.
I realized that I was photographing their children, but I seeing THEM.
I was completely missing the magic that makes US the artwork.
Boudoir- here, at least- is a way to find your way back into your skin.
It's all the little millions of reasons that we have found not to love ourselves fulling and it's leaving them at the door, when you walk in.
It's maybe not knowing exactly what you want to celebrate, or document or prove but it's wanting to love yourself radically, and without hesitation, and without conditions.
So a little Monday reminder that no matter where you are in that self love journey; if you're completely at home in your skin or if you've never felt grounded a day in your life- I'm going to meet you right where you're at. And my goal is that you feel even more confident, connected and grounded when you leave.
Are you ready for the best day ever? Book your boudoir session and have a whole day to dive into loving all over yourself! Start with professional hair and makeup, get expert posing guidance, and top your day off with a same day ordering appointment to see and choose your images that same day!
I can’t wait to work with you <3