I am a walking monument to my abandonment wounds. My entire career is rooted in the desire to be needed, to be valuable, to be worth keeping around. My lifelong preoccupation with documentation grew from a fear of loss – photography is a way for me to keep everything. Emotionally hoarding nostalgia, afraid to let go of anything that feels even close to belonging.

I want nothing more than to know my dad. There have been times in my life where this has felt so painful that I crack and I weep and can't even speak about the fact that it won't be possible in this lifetime, on this mortal plane, in this existence (whatever way you want to put it). There are other times when I feel a little distance from that pain and it's easier to function &; feel present in my current life. I feel more present right NOW as I'm writing this, but the weight of it has been lingering in my psyche over the last year; so many moments where all of my cells were screaming: "it wasn't supposed to be this way."

Why keep watering yourself down until there's nothing left? It'll never be enough. She said something that stuck with me: “the more you push me away, the further away I am.”What if I stop trying to bend myself back into a shape that you'll accept? You'll stay right where you are, and so will I. I won't ask you to shapeshift, and I will no longer accept that I feel I need to in order to win your acceptance. So be terrifying, right?