Personal Narrative
Reflections
I do not always recognize myself right away when I look in the mirror. Sometimes I look for reassurance before I look for truth. Holding this compact up to my face, I started to realize how much of my identity has been shaped by reflections: in mirrors, in photos, in sewing, and in other people’s opinions. This story explores how I learned to trust my own reflection instead.
Conversations I Was Not Old Enough to Hear
Growing up, I always wanted to be part of the adult conversations. I wanted to sit on the couch, hear the real stories, and finally understand what my family’s lives were like before I existed. But the moment the cursing started, my mom would shoo us out of the room, and all I was left with were half-heard jokes and dramatic reactions from the hallway. This story is about generations, memory, and finally realizing that the wild teenage lives my family lived in New York shaped more than just their stories. They shaped the love, protection, and values they passed down to me, even when I was not old enough to hear everything.
Stepping into Her
For a long time, I watched moments like this happen to other people. Standing on the runway with the city behind me, I realized I was no longer just imagining this life, yet I was living inside it. This story is about the moment I stopped waiting for permission and started believing I belonged in the spaces I once only dreamed about.
Waiting Room
I met my niece in the NICU room, not a nursery. Before I ever held her, I watched her through glass, surrounded by machines and a blue light that made everything feel distant and unreal. No one knew what to expect next. We just waited, hoping her body would be strong enough to fight so we can see her open her eyes. This story is about fear turning into hope, and how witnessing her resilience taught me that sometimes love is not loud or visible, it is quiet, patient, and full of faith in outcomes you cannot control.
Under the Lights
The room is quiet except for the sound of the camera shutter and the soft hum of the lights above me. I am balancing between directions, poses, and my own reflection, trying to look confident while still figuring out what that even means. This story begins in a studio, but it is really about learning how to exist in spaces where I am both being seen and still learning how to see myself.