How A Portrait Can Go Beyond How You Look
The season after survival
By the time Hannah stepped in front of the camera, she had already done the hardest part.
She had fought for her marriage. She had lost a parent. She had finished law school. The photographs themselves were not the brave thing. Living through these challenges was.
A year past these deeply impactful events, stronger, softer and more certain of heart - Hannah and I talked about therapeutic photography. No stranger to the benefits of traditional psychotherapy as an MSW herself, she was thrilled to hear about the process. She had faced her worst fears along with the grief and change that came with them. She had become a different version of herself than who she was before. A version that she now knew with certainty was strong, resilient, and above all incredibly loveable. She knew this now internally, in a way she had not known before. And she wanted to celebrate that knowing.
For Hannah, just like with anyone doing therapeutic photography with me, the portrait was about something else. Something deeper. It was about standing still long enough to recognize the person who had emerged on the other side. The multifaceted person who is allowed to exist. Who is permitted to be seen for all the nuance they hold within.
That’s where the reflective prompts come in to play. Before the shoot Hannah, centered her experience and took stock of where she had been. She selected from the provided reflective prompts the ones that moved her the most and wrote a letter to herself. A powerful statement of her love for who she is and how she is. Here is what she wrote:
”A Love Letter
I love that you are always trying to grow, learn, and be curious. That you know that you don’t know everything about anything. That the more life you live, the more you realize the learning is endless, and I love that that excites you.
I love how you show up for people. Not just the people you know and care deeply for, but for each familiar or unfamiliar person you encounter. I love that you want to know and understand those around you, that you want each person to feel seen and accepted as they are, to know that they matter and belong. I love how you learned early on about the healing power of just being with someone, or allowing others to be with you, in the darkest moments in life when hope feels far away—that words aren’t necessary to let someone know they’re not alone.
I love how you love big. That you fully delight in and celebrate those around you. You know the risk of loving big, and that loss of those you love is certain in life—but you love hard anyway. You’ve learned that your best loving comes from the overflow of a deep love and respect for yourself. I love that each day you choose to try to love all the parts of you, and all the versions you’ve been and will become.
I love that even when you aren’t always kind to yourself, you choose to receive kindness from others who can remind you of who you are, and the beauty inside of you. That you choose to let others see and love the parts of you that you don’t always know how to love.
I love how sensitive you are. You feel deeply. No matter how much trauma you bear witness to in others, and no matter how much loss you experience in your own life, I love that you don’t back down from feeling the full weight of it all—whatever comes, you let it exist, you let it touch and transform and shine a light on the most hidden parts of you. And you hold steady as it moves through you. You let go of what isn’t for you to hold onto. And it changes you.
And I love who you are on the other side of it all.
I love your courage to face each day. Even when you know the day most certainly will hold pain, grief, loss, you’re no longer afraid you won’t survive those feelings—you know you will. The waves can feel big and hard, but you know calmer waters always come. Some of your biggest fears have been realized, and you didn’t just survive it—your capacity for love grew greater and your plans got bigger and you laughed harder and your hope grew stronger, and your ambitions grew wilder. And even though the future seems more uncertain than ever before, life somehow keeps getting sweeter, fuller, better than you ever imagined it could be.
I love how you are. I love who you are. Keep going and enjoy the ride.
Love,
Me”
Through her letter she found grounding, compassion, and care for self. Intertwining the internal experience to the external we talked at length about what setting would be most encapsulating of this season for her. What expressions, body language and energy felt right to mark this moment. At the home she and her ex-husband had owned together, now further occupied by her friend and roommate and a few smooshable pups, she stood proudly in the space that she felt complete ownership over both through the pride and confidence in herself and in the physical space - the home, the life, the daring changes that still take energy and grit to move through on a regular basis.
Hannah worked hard to give herself access to the life she wanted to live. She opened her heart, her mind, and her spirit to the unknowns fully embraced the process with tenderness, care, and creativity. “Thank you for this incredible experience,” she said when the session had finished. “You are going to change the world with your photography.”
To that, I say: Namaste.
The light in me honors the light in you.
And together, we change the world.
