Reflections and a Photo Shoot at Rock Bottom

Vera Lee Bird | Photography by Rachel Renee

Things are starting to feel calm in an unfamiliar and increasingly welcome way. My worries feel less urgent, my mistakes and stumbles seem less devastating. Nuance and moderation are becoming more normal and natural… I find myself gently questioning the first, often anxious or definitive, thoughts that come to mind in any given moment — asking myself if it is a fact or a feeling and, if it’s a limitation, asking how and when that rule was made.

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I feel like I’ve been going through a hard time for a very long time — and at the same time, I feel like I’ve only been working at welcoming in joy, nurturing a community and female friendships, and exploring a healthy middle where I once sought out black-and-white extremes… But I’ve looked back through my journals, this blog, my photography, and photos of me over the years and there’s no denying, I’ve been walking this path for a good stretch of time now and the results are beginning to show.

It feels like I’ve only just begun to dig my way out of a sad and dark hole, but when I look a little closer, I see so much progress.

I planned a “Good Riddance Rock Bottom” Photoshoot

I did a goodbye photo shoot at the home I spent most of the past two years in, where the relationship went sour and I became my darkest and most bitter self… Where I experienced terrifying and intense feelings of desperation… and where I finally truly felt the state of helplessness and victimhood I was in begin to shed and peel away, replaced with curiosity, determination, courage, and strength like I always dreamed of developing within myself.

Going in to the photo shoot with my beloved photographer, the exquisite Rachel Renee, I shared that we would be capturing a painful and sad time with this shoot — the lowest low I’ve ever known, I told her.

“I expect I will hate these photos. It’s going to hurt to see myself as I am right now. I feel so ashamed and disappointed in myself for where I’m at in life. But I want to document the hard and the bad times as well as the beautiful highs… One day, someone’s grandchildren will be glad to have these photos and the stories they tell… So let’s make some art!”

I tried to show my pain, my disappointment, my shame, and my anger in this shoot… Everything I usually try to hide.

I guess I forgot about the fact that I am basically a professional when it comes to masking such things, because it was actually terribly difficult to bring those emotions to the surface and allow them to be visible once the camera came out… I couldn’t recall ever actually letting those emotions show, I didn’t have the slightest hint of an idea of how to call them forward. My face barely changed, even as I recalled memories that had devastation and rage burning and bursting through my veins. During the shoot, the three of us women circled there talked about female rage and the empowering experience of screaming and letting it out… I didn’t have the courage to belt out a scream right then and there, but I felt so seen acknowledging the struggle and the reality of the rage rippling in a cage in my throat and chest alongside women who understood it all too well.

We captured a look of disgust and disappointment, and this honestly feels *so vulnerable* to be sharing with you here. But I’m proud of myself for being able to let it show… I’m learning not to bottle up my outrage and disappointment and this was a special exercise in allowing myself to acknowledge and express such feelings. In this photo, I was thinking about the time my ex said to me, “you’re seeing things that aren’t there,” and seeing a montage of all of the times he told me I was being too sensitive when I said I didn’t feel comfortable with something. | In a different relationship, I gave my partner this look when he was being deeply disrespectful — he yelled at me not to look at him like that, that I should see how ugly and scary my face looked in that moment. At the time, I made a note that I shouldn’t make this face. Now, I wish I could go back and tell that version of me that you’re allowed to look angry and disgusted when someone is being disgusting and you feel angry about it!

When the photos arrived, I sobbed.

A horrible, full body, gut-wrenching, can’t-breathe, can’t-see, hug-my-knees-to-my-chest-and-shatter-on-the-floor sob tore its way through me… Because I didn’t expect to feel so proud of the woman in the photos. I didn’t know I could love her or anyone so very much. So much it hurt.

The love I’ve always wanted, the belonging and the safety I’ve always craved… I was holding it right here in my own heart all along, of course, but for the first time, I could actually feel it… I could touch it… It was holding me… It is mine, all mine. Finally.

It was like holding myself at 7, 12, and 17 years old…

I felt the little girls I’ve been during all of the most demeaning, disgusting, and terrifying moments of my childhood all looking at the photos alongside me. They were laughing and dancing with joy at the woman they grew up to become…

I marvelled at the realization of how strong, how brave, how fierce, how funny, how gentle, how kind I have become…

At my dancing and singing, playing music and making art, experiencing friendships, creating spaces all around me for being honest and playful, for experiencing and expressing my emotions from joy all the way to rage… wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow.

Delicately removing a tiny slug from my sleeve before posing beautifully for the photo… I thought I looked like a dork in this moment, but seeing the photo now… chills.

Post tiny-slug-removal pose. I could feel the strength and grounded sense of belonging and security in my body while looking over Rachel’s shoulder for this shot. I never used to feel connected, strong, safe, or confident in myself, especially in front of other people, and even more especially in front of a camera! It was such a special moment for me to notice that gentle presence and strength and the warmth in and all around me… The warmth of my own love and acceptance for myself.

This shoot captured the accumulation of literally thousands of days of self-care and conscious decisions to be gentle, to do one small thing, tens of thousands of tiny moments where I took care of myself in whatever way I could…

When I saw these photographs for the first time, I saw the hundreds and thousands of little gifts of love and grace and patience and strength and courage I’ve given myself over the course of these past few years and every moment since cracking open my first self-help book at 14 years old. For the first time in my life, I saw me and I was enough for myself.

I saw the beautiful, trusting bond I finally have with myself.

I could feel it, see the way it sparkled like an invisible string from the soft creases around my eyes to the perfect posture as my core held me tall and strong without me even thinking about it… The way my hair curled down to my shoulders — shoulders so naturally relaxed I can’t help but admire my own poise. I remember learning to release these same shoulders from their crunched-up position near my ears when I was 17, the same age I was when I cried over not being able to see my toes in the shower without sucking in my bloated belly. How far this miraculous body and I have come together…

I see the quirks, the things that would have made me cringe a couple years ago, and my love for the woman I’ve become swells. The way I tuck my neck in like a turtle when I’m embarrassed by a compliment… The way I’ll look down and to the side when I know I’ve done something beautifully, but I don’t want it to make someone feel as though they aren’t enough just because I’ve done it well. The awkward way I purse my lips when I’m proud of myself for embracing something new, while also feeling silly for how hard I made it up until the point of acceptance.

I see the quirks and, for the first time, I don’t feel the need to “fix” them.

“I’m sorry. I forgive you. Thank you. I love you.”

I’m sorry I picked at you so much, I want to tell myself in every instance where I saw such an imperfection and resolved to learn to look better the next time. I see it differently now. You are amazing. I am so proud and happy to be you. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Vera Lee Bird and Miss Daisy Mae | Photography by Rachel Renee

In these photographs, I see a woman who wants to be better today than she was yesterday and who also lives with radical curiosity, kindness, and love every single day, no matter what she’s going through. I see someone who is brave enough to make mistakes and be a mess, even in front of people she’d hate to disappoint. I see someone who is brave enough to try, who owns her mistakes and learns and grows from them, and who holds space for others to try and to be beginners as well.

I can’t believe I expected be disgusted by who I saw in these photographs…

I have become the woman I always wanted to be, I was just so focused on the next goal to accomplish, the mess I was focused on cleaning, the thing I wanted to fix now, that I looked right through me. Thank you, Rachel and all of my wonderful sisters and girl friends, for always knowing how to see me when I am invisible to myself. Thank you for being examples of what love really means. ♥

Final thoughts…

This has been such a precious experience, and yet another reason I will always be an advocate for self-portraits and documentary-style photo shoots at every stage of a journey! I am so grateful and honored to have been able to capture this part of my life with an artist who sees and understands me so beautifully… What a life-changing experience this particular shoot turned out to be.

I’m sure more words will come together in the days and weeks ahead. For now, I am reveling in this special sort of honeymoon stage with my own self. I hope it brings you some sort of soothing, inspiration, and grace… Be good to yourself.

With lots and lots of love,

Vera