I’m making us some cinnamon black tea with honey. Take a seat on my comfy couch, pull up the plush blanket and wrap your hands around the warm mug. I’d love to have a chat. Are you warm? Comfy? Ok, let’s begin…
You are fucking incredible. What you’ve done in life matters. And maybe you don’t feel that way. I get it. The darkness lately has been suffocating. I go between rage and tears til they’ve merged into some emotion monster trying to eat all my light. But for the next few minutes I’m dragging my tired and battered soul to the surface so you can really hear me- It’s time to show up. Get in the photos.
Yes, your life is interesting and worth documenting. Pull out the loud printed dress and chunky earrings. If that’s not your vibe, stick with lounge wear, but make it your own. Gone are the beauty standards that distract us from our power, keep us small, and take our money. We are not here to satisfy the gaze of another. We are goddamn orcas- leading pods, sinking yachts, and playing with dead salmon on our heads (all true facts, you can google it). Orcas don’t give a flying fuck what they look like or their size. They find their community and do whatever it is that orcas do. Be an orca.
If you are reading this, it’s because a part of you knows I’m right. That what the world calls ordinary, like reading your child a book is actually extraordinary. It is a core memory. The emotional syncing with another human you love. Now imagine light filtering through the curtains, highlighting your child’s hair and how their head rests on your chest. That? That’s important. That deserves to be documented and it can’t be unless you are there. Or take everyone out of the story and let it just be you. Sitting in your favorite patch of sunlight, reading a book that feels like an old friend. That image is deserves to be remembered.
Authenticity is the goal. Because, my matriarchal orca ladies, this life is all we have. And I’ll be damned if anyone tries to make you feel small or unimportant. Your grey hairs, soft waving rolls of skin, freckles splashing across the face, and every little thing that society has tried to say is wrong- makes you not only beautiful, but strong. Your body is showing up every day for you. That is strength. YOU are showing up every day. And maybe that strength is shown by holding up a protest sign and marching with your neighbors. Or watching your friend’s child so she can pick up an extra shift. All these stories of strength need to be told.
There are words the stumble throughout my mind. Words that I want to say to you, to me, to all the women out there. We are watching the death of one world and it is trying to take our daughters with it. I will not allow that to happen. Rather than sink with that ship, let me remind you (and myself) that we have wings. Wings to fly above, away, and to rescue others through our example. Our wings will protect the new world that is being born. And I swear on all that I believe, when I take your photo I can see them. Your wings, the new world, the pain and rebirth. I’m desperate for you to see yourself. It is with my camera and your trust that I can do this.
I’m afraid your tea may be cold by now. If so, I’ll pop it in the microwave or pour you a new cup. Because our conversation isn’t over. I want to hear you. And while we discuss how to tell your story, I’ll open a window so that our words are given to the air and sent to others who need them.
