Edit 4: Proof of Becoming
There’s a particular kind of excitement that doesn’t arrive loudly.
It doesn’t announce itself with fireworks or a finish line.
It arrives softly-almost cautiously-and asks: Are you ready to notice me now?
I’ve been feeling that kind of excitement lately.
It began quietly, months ago, when a handful of my photographs from Japan-images I took simply because I couldn’t not take them-were included alongside an interview in a local magazine. At the time, it felt surreal in the loveliest way. A pause. A moment of recognition. Not validation exactly, but acknowledgment. A whisper that said, This thing you love? It’s being seen.
I tucked that feeling away, not knowing what to do with it yet.
Not long after, I stepped into a role that required consistency, timing, and presence-serving as Charlotte Catholic High School’s marching band photographer. Capturing performances, travel days, and the in-between moments that rarely get noticed. Learning how to anticipate movement, emotion, and light in real time. Showing up week after week, camera in hand, understanding what it means to document something that matters deeply to a community.
It felt like practice in the truest sense of the word.
Then came Little Pumpkin Decorators, now Little Porch Decorators.
What started as a simple collaboration turned into my first paid photography work-documenting holiday porches, small details, thoughtful styling choices, and the trust of a growing business willing to let me tell their visual story. I showed up with my camera, my eye, and a quiet confidence that surprised even me. I edited carefully. I delivered thoughtfully. And somewhere in that process, something shifted.
I wasn’t pretending anymore.
I was doing the thing.
And then, several days ago, an email landed in my inbox-the kind you read twice just to be sure you didn’t imagine it.
The Junior League of Charlotte Nominating Committee would be hosting a Willingness to Serve workshop and wanted to offer headshots for attendees. My name had been passed along. My Instagram had been viewed. My work noticed-not just for a single event, but with an eye toward future marketing and storytelling.
I sat with that for a minute.
Because this wasn’t just about headshots.
It was about trust. Inclusion. Being invited in.
Suddenly, all those quiet moments lined up:
The photographs taken without an agenda.
The magazine feature that sparked something.
The steady rhythm of band performances captured frame by frame.
The porch sessions that became proof.
None of it happened overnight. None of it was rushed. And none of it required me to declare myself anything before I was ready.
This is what becoming looks like.
Not a grand reveal, but a series of gentle yeses.
Not a leap, but a steady unfolding.
Not a title, but the work itself.
I don’t know exactly where this path leads-and for once, I’m comfortable with that. What I do know is that I’m paying attention now. To the opportunities. To the excitement that grows instead of fades. To the quiet confidence that says, Keep going.
This edit isn’t a finish line.
It’s proof that I’m already on my way.
