With Pride month coming to a close, I’ve been reflecting on my own coming-out journey and my relationship to myself.
It wasn’t until I was in my late twenties that I embraced the concept of “falling in love with myself.”
At the time, I was unhappy in my hetero partnership and in the thick of a decades-long struggle with my eating disorder. Earlier that spring I had sought treatment for a bad spell of panic attacks and clinical depression. I hadn’t even considered that I was queer. I was just surviving.
Loving myself was a daily struggle: I felt distrust towards my body, always feeling incomplete instead of whole. Self-love wasn’t in my vocabulary; I didn’t think I had permission to focus on my own needs and desires.
But one summer, everything changed. It happened gradually at first, and then suddenly, before I was even aware of the change going on within.
So for this week’s Woman Crush Wednesday blog, I’m doing something a little bit different. I’d like to give you a peek inside the summer I began falling in love with myself.
This is one of my first ever self-portraits when I began my coming out process a few years ago. I didn’t realize at the time I was coming out, but my creative spirit sure knew, and the rest of me caught up later.
That summer I stopped wearing bras and started wearing bright, happy shades of Wet-n-Wild lipstick- fuchsias and tangerines. I bought my first crop top. I started doing pull-ups and took pride in my new growing biceps. I cursed like a sailor, smoked, and rode my bike everywhere. And I started painting.
To an outsider, I probably didn’t look “that” queer, or strong, or proud. But the shift felt remarkable for me.
For the first time in my decades-long struggle with my eating disorder and self-image, I felt happy in my own skin. I had finally quieted those voices in my head — remnants of an extremely conservative religious upbringing — that told me to not trust my body, not to be sexual, not to regard my Self.
That summer, I stopped caring so much about what others expected from me. I gave myself permission to put my own needs first. To value myself in the same way I valued my photography clients. To turn the camera on myself. To see myself, and to celebrate the beauty and complexity that I saw.
Coming out and falling in love with myself is something I’m still doing, and I’m not sure I want it to end.
I spent so much of my life making myself small, trying not to rock the boat. So making myself more visible now—first to myself, and then to others—takes sustained work. On the bad days, I still stifle my voice and dress “modestly” for fear of rejection—by loved ones and strangers alike.
But when I look at these self-portraits, I immediately access that quiet, still place: when I began living without justifying my actions to anyone—myself included. It feels expansive and full of promise. It feels authentic, joyful and easy.
To all my LGBTQ clients: Thank you. You are brave and beautiful. You inspire me to love authentically. You challenge me to stand up for myself and others, to speak up, to “come out” with my own truth and not just hide behind my camera.
Love has no labels. Whether you are straight, queer, polyamorous, or a relationship anarchist, I want to celebrate your personal expression of love and reflect your own beauty back to you through my art.
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