She sat there, fidgeting with the hem of her robe, eyes darting to the mirror and then away just as quickly. "I don’t think I can do this," she whispered, barely loud enough to hear.
I could feel the weight in her words. It was the kind of exhaustion that goes beyond a bad night’s sleep—it was the heaviness of months, maybe years, of struggle. Unexplained medical issues had drained her, bad luck had chipped away at her spirit, and her self-esteem had plummeted lower than she ever thought possible. She didn’t feel like herself anymore. And the thought of standing in front of a camera, in lingerie, trying to be sexy? Impossible.
She was convinced there wasn’t a single angle, a single pose, a single flicker of light that could make her see herself as beautiful.
But that’s where I come in.
I don’t force confidence on anyone. I don’t tell you to just “love yourself” as if it’s a switch you can flip. Instead, I take your hand, and together, we step onto this terrifying path. I cheer for you as you take the first hesitant steps. I help you breathe through the discomfort. I remind you that you are doing the hard work—I’m just here to assist.
So we started slow. Deep breaths. Music that felt like home. Poses that weren’t about looking sexy but about feeling strong. I showed her the first image on the back of my camera, and she stared. “That’s me?” she asked, eyebrows knitting together. “But… I look… I look good.”
And I nodded, because yes, that was her. That beauty, that power, that resilience—that was always her. It just took seeing it through a different lens for her to believe it.
Shifting how we see ourselves isn’t easy. We get so used to critiquing our bodies, focusing on what we don’t like, believing the worst about ourselves. It’s damn near impossible to think differently—until we see differently. Until we’re faced with undeniable proof that we are, in fact, more than we ever gave ourselves credit for.
By the end of the session, she was standing taller, eyes brighter. She laughed freely, no longer weighed down by doubt. And when she saw the final images, she cried—not because she looked different, but because she finally saw what everyone else had seen all along.
This is why I do what I do. Not to change you, but to show you what’s already there. To hand you back the confidence that life tried to take away. To remind you that no matter how lost you feel, how disconnected from yourself you’ve become—you are still you. And you are breathtaking.
So if you're sitting there wondering if you could ever see yourself in that way, if you could ever feel that confident, that radiant, that empowered—I promise you, you can. And I will be right there, cheering you on every step of the way.
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