It has taken me a while to find the right words for this.
For the past several months, I have been navigating some of the hardest moments of my life—physically, emotionally, and financially. And while I have always tried to carry my burdens quietly and move forward without making my struggles anyone else’s problem, I have come to understand that silence can become its own kind of weight.
So today, I am choosing transparency. This is not about pity. This is about truth, growth, and strength—the kind that is built from the ground up.
This is not a reflection of who I am
I have been a photographer since 2014. I started my first business in Michigan in 2016, relocated to St. Louis in 2018, and after losing my late partner to cancer in 2020, I launched a new business in 2021 and I went full time within six months. Here we are, more than 3 years later.
I have worked in camera sales, education, and professional retouching. I have taught at conferences like Shutterfest, have had over 250 publications, and photographed hundreds, if not thousands of sessions and weddings, most of them solo. I have built my business with passion, grit, and resilience. But even the strongest of us can lose our footing.
Somewhere along the way, I started sacrificing too much of myself for the sake of being accessible. I got caught up in the pressure to please, in the habit of devaluing my work for other people’s gain. I stopped charging what I should have. I stopped setting boundaries. I let the noise of others cloud the voice I had spent years developing.
And then, real life happened.
I was harassed and betrayed by people I trusted
People I loved. People I had supported and cheered on. When I was already battling depression, chronic illness, and financial strain, some of those people intentionally worked against me. They knew how stress impacts my fibromyalgia. They exploited that And it broke me.
Still, I stayed quiet. I did not ask for help when my car was stolen.
I did not ask for help when I was attacked in my home.
I did not ask for help during four months of trauma caused by corrupt police.
I did not ask for help when my body gave out and my savings were gone.
I just tried to keep working. I focused on weddings and corporate gigs to avoid further pain. But in doing that, I lost touch with what made me love this in the first place. Then I was assaulted, and everything came crashing down.
I know there are people who judged me when I finally asked for help. Who talked behind my back or dismissed me as if needing support made me weak.
But let me be clear.
I am not weak. I am human. And I have done the work
I have spent the better part of a year healing. Digging deep. Rebuilding my foundation. Just because I was struggling then does not mean I have not fought to get back to the person I have always known I am. The one who shows up. Who leads with heart. Who gives her all.
I want to be someone you can trust. Someone who is respected not just for her art, but for her integrity. I want to be the kind of person who sets an example of what to do, not what to avoid. Someone who inspires others to speak up, to stand tall, and to chase what they want no matter who tries to stand in the way.
Because the truth is, this industry and this world needs less gossip and betrayal, and more honesty, safety, and support. We do better by leading with our actions.
And if no one else will, I will.
Welcome to my comeback. I am here to stay this time
This is not just a story about struggle. It is a story about survival. About reclaiming my power. About building something stronger than what was taken from me.
I am not asking for handouts. I am asking for people to invest in my art. In the vision, heart, and years of experience that go into everything I create. I have worked. I have always worked. But sometimes the world knocks you down so hard you need time to get back up.
I am back on my feet now. With a clearer voice, stronger boundaries, and more passion than ever. I hope you will stick around. Because the best is still coming.
