I’ve been a boudoir photographer for about 13 years now.
Four years ago I was on my way to Las Vegas. I can still see my son in the rear view mirror singing songs I didn’t know he knew, his big ol’ head bobbin’ around aimlessly to the beat. My passenger seatbelt alarm keeps going off thinking there’s another person in the car but it’s just the bags I packed to stay a week (or more) in Vegas. The trunk was too full with all the things I had secretly brought down throughout the week. Everything important to my business had to come – my laptop, cameras, camera gear, lighting, hard drives, everything it had to come. And then there were the kids’ bags, just enough to get me through a week.
My heart is racing as I think about my next move. The 5 hour drive is just enough time to figure it all out, I’ve convinced myself.
I’m passing the 76 Hwy/Pala exit and am reminded of the boudoir shoot I had after getting out of jail. Yes, I said jail. I had spent the night there after defending myself from the father of my children. The details about the fight are hazy, but after a cop decided that he received more damage to his body than I did and deserved to arrest me after I was the one who called them. I changed a tire at that exit after I hit a pothole just before my boudoir shoot.
The memories begin flooding.
I feel a pain in my back as a reminder of the big ass bruise from when he punched me.
I smell the vinaigrette of a salad packet that was thrown at my face from our tiny kitchen.
I remember the, “who the fuck would want you? You have two kids.”
“Where the fuck are you going?”
“You’re a stupid bitch”
“I’ll fuckin kill you.”
“I’ll fuckin kill all of us.”
And of course, there are the subtle manipulations, the cheating, the quiet emotional abuse that’s hard to describe but always omnipresent in relationships such as this. I was alienated from my family and friends. I felt like nothing most. of the time.
For 6 years I photographed boudoir and came back home to suffer under these conditions thinking I wasn’t good enough to have anything better.
In six years as a boudoir photographer I met many different women whose stories rang familiar. Parts of their lives felt like they were plucked from my own. Women from all walks of life shared their stories with me, shared their vulnerabilities. As I asked them to shed their fears and comfortability, I hid behind my camera loudly and proudly stating their value, but always secretly undermining my own.
But I was finally leaving to begin a new life in Las Vegas where I found myself. In this gorgeous desert I found adventure and brought other women on adventures with me to see red rocks, huge lakes, and dirt roads. I’ve traveled with ladies to empower them on their journeys and capture their greatness and I look forward to do so much more than that.
