As a person recovering from deep-rooted patterns of self-doubt, I’ve begun taking auto-portraits as a way of accepting myself - finding beauty and embracing the shadow parts. All pictures were taken at the places I was living or staying at, with no rush, holding space for all emotions to come up, and allowing the healing to happen. ​​​​​​​

Beyond all of the things we judge in ourselves, there’s a warm light that accepts us just as we are. Now.

The path of self-love is not an easy one, as you have to open-heartedly face all of your vulnerabilities, one by one. It does take practice. Sometimes you end up swimming every ocean just to realize that love has always been right here, looking back at you.

But it's all worth it in the end because you,
my dear, are worthy of love.
I don't feed the darkness anymore,
I only play with light from now on.
Serenity is the name of my queen,
She loves it when my hands are clean.
Hey! We haven’t spoken for years.
How have you been? I’m all ears.
Uh oh…  Don’t you feel like talking? It’s alright. Me neither.
Let me show you how troubles disappear into the ether.             
Lift your eyes up at the night sky. Let go of the urge to forecast.
Gaze as long as it takes to dissolve constellations of the past.
My little star,
Here you are:

There is more than ninety-nine percent of emptiness, 
& a million shiny dots for you to paint your happiness.
And out of the blue, you’re conscious, too?
Is there anything else you find more true? 
How come having the greatest gift of all,
You keep making me feel so very small? 
So I wonder what it’s like to be you at the moment,
And realize I, myself, am my only opponent. 
But if matter lights up from the inside with intent,
There’s nothing in me my heart can’t melt. 

My battery is so low I can barely swim,
I can instantly tell that your light is dim.

You know, I have hypersensitive strings,
And it’s in my nature to multiply things.

Oh, there’s so much that could sprout,
If only you ceased feeding me doubt.

There are depths under our chit-chats 
That only the two of us can get.
You can tell me by my silhouette.

Oh, I am well aware of the dangers.
So... Are we going to lose our acts,
Or remain just a couple of strangers?

Barista, mix me yet another Sweet & Sad,
Just in case a dove flies by.
My oh my, I keep feeling above high,
Hoping I ain’t going mad.

And then again out of the blue,
I hear a distant tune of a cuckoo.

I used to be good at reading between the lines,
But lately I’ve been taking everything for signs.
It’s not a way to go, otherwise my mind will blow.
Maybe I should practice letting things flow.

The Universe seemed to be on my side,
I may just have to wait for another tide.

Thinking of how I got so good at overthinking.
Did I win a lottery at God’s?
Or was it a gift from my dads?
How responsible am I for letting it sink in?*
How does the fourth dimension look…
Am I still listed in your telephone book?

*How much of it is of my own making?
Years and years of nameless sorrow, 
A bottle of wine three nights in a row.
Then, through a crack in my shield, I first saw her, 
Crawling on gravel, afraid of walking on Earth.
I tried so hard to make it bright here, under the sun,
Until my pupils got burnt. And I took her for a ghost.
I’ve offered my hand to everyone but one,
That has always counted on me the most.
“So, Follette, has he seen your story yet?”
“Nooo. And it makes me so upset.
I keep looking for a four-leaf clover,
Going mad instead of getting over.”
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