I’ve always known things before I knew how to say them.
Photography was where that knowing first began to speak.
I fell in love with the medium — deeply. The craft, the process, the devotion it required. But more than that, an image could hold what I perceived without asking me to justify it.
Many women operate this way without naming it. They adapt their seeing to fit roles, structures, and disciplines, mistaking the container for the source.
I did this too.
I moved through rooms where I learned systems that didn’t speak my language. I treated sensitivity and discernment as excess, desire as friction. I adjusted, instead of trusting what was already moving through me.
Until I realised the power was never in the image, but in the way I see.
What I had thought was native to art, relationships, or financial position was revealing something much simpler and more fundamental — that there is a source to how I perceive, how I orient, how I move.
And that source lives in me.
Now, I work from that place directly.
I no longer scan for what needs to be healed, transmuted, or rewritten. I look for what is already encoded — precisely, natively, at the centre of one’s own identity.
Because when that is seen clearly, life reorganises naturally. Decisions sharpen. Boundaries no longer need explanation. Focus returns to what matters.
Not because anything has changed, but because what was already true has been recognised.