10/24/2025

For a long while now I started to believe adulthood really could change us. It seemed like the anxieties we once had during adolescence stopped being so bothersome like they used to be. Entering my thirties this year I felt like I was starting to understand myself as a person, no longer plagued by the ignorance of childhood, the awkwardness of puberty, or the alcohol soaked “getting your shit together” twenties. Turns out though, not all that much has changed.

Since getting into the world of concert photography, it’s reminded me I’m still the same weird chick I always was. I was never a popular kid in school. Kyle G. called it when he called me a spaz in the 6th grade as I stood by my locker. I try to act cool around people way cooler than me, making myself look like an idiot in the process. When I’m really nervous, I start to laugh uncontrollably. I hate silences & feel the need to fill them with any thought that comes into my head at that very moment. I walk into these venues trying to act unphased, but I’m a nervous wreck. My entire life feels like endless imposter syndrome just trying to be myself, but the myself version that is calm, collected, & knows exactly what she’s doing.

I love music, I always have, but I’ve never felt like there’s a place where I fit into it. This “outsider” feeling developed heavily as a teen when I first tried to step out of my comfort zone to engage with music & its community. There was a lot of gatekeeping hipster bullshit involved, but I tried to push past it, tried to act cool to fit inside of a space I was never welcomed into to begin with. Then a local musician assaulted me & 12 years went on by. I never felt anger or sadness really, I just felt embarrassed of myself. Still do, especially with every reminder from Spotify or another concert I now have to avoid. Maybe if I was cooler, more attractive, maybe I wouldn’t feel so used up.

If anyone’s used me the most though, I would be the most guilty. I make myself bend so that others won’t break, hoping it will give me some sort of worth; twisting myself into something I never can possibly be.  Unfortunately, one can only bend so far.