Photography: A RomCom (But Not Really)

My favorite hobby once upon what seems like a lifetime ago was photography. The way the camera angles created a scene, how light played a trick on the eyes, encompassing the model, creating color and beauty throughout one simple photo taken in a blink of an eye, and immortalized forever on my flash drive. Yet with all that passion used to take the perfect picture, everything else seemed less and less perfect as I constantly stared at my screen, criticizing and modifying and polishing every little detail.

So, inevitably I realized that the fire and fuel for photography just wasn’t there anymore, and I did what I thought anyone would do. I gave up. I put my supplies away for the last time, and decided to move on to something new and enticing. Yet I never found that same sense of fulfillment and productivity with any other job or hobby. Something just didn’t add up, and I wasn’t as happy on the inside as it seemed I was on the outside. I had this hole inside my heart, that just couldn’t be filled with anything (not even food or cute animals). But what is heartbreaking about all of this is that it took me not one, not two or three years, but four years to realize that my true love was right in front of me this whole time. But not actually right in front of me, more like in protective cases in my closet. So, let's get this party started about a romantic reconnection with a long lost lover (but not really).

Four years later I had become the definition of hopeless, and hopeless became the definition of me (sad I know right). Night after night for months I laid awake filled with sorrow, self pity and even hatred because I didn’t know who I was anymore, and to be honest I didn’t really know who I was before all of this. I just knew how to hold a camera, get the right lighting and angle, and I was an editing GOD (emphasis on god because I was pretty darn good I don’t mind saying myself-and I don't mind saying). But I never gave myself even the slightest credit for even these small things and it shows since it feels like all I know now is what I wasn’t good at. I can’t sing, paint, make masterpieces in the kitchen, and even knit ugly grandma sweaters (and I tried so hard to knit). All I knew was something was missing and whatever that was I needed to find it before it was too late. 

So, late one night as I was miserably tossing and turning barely shutting my eyes, I caught a glimpse of the slightly open closet, which I thought I had closed before I flung myself under the covers, but here it was open just slightly, and it was bugging me that it was open barely even an inch (if it was open that much it might as well been open all the way am I right?). And though I was angry I had to get out of the bed I was so desperately trying to make my way into, I pushed myself up. I slid out of the covers and onto the floor, making my way to the light so I wouldn’t trip or fall on my way to the closet. I closed my eyes and turned on the light, quickly opening my eyes back up right after.  Why the slightest opening was bothering me made no sense. But it was bothering me greatly. But this unknown calling in the middle of the night is what brought me back to life. 

When I finally made it to the closet (after two seconds) I closed the door and turned to walk away. But some strong force seemed to hold me back from continuing on my trek back to that bed. So I turned back around and opened the closet door to see the love of my life staring back at me. My camera bag sitting right there in the front, looking brand new with (somehow) no dust on it, as if I had put it down just yesterday and not four years ago. And something right then and there clicked in my brain. “This is it. This is what I’ve been missing”. It was like I found the last puzzle piece hidden under the couch. It all made sense now. I wasn’t looking for something new, I just had to find what I had lost, and in that bag was not only a camera but a piece of myself and my identity too. 

I grabbed the bag and moved back to my bed, plopping on it like a toddler. I opened the bag and slowly took out the camera, as if it were an ancient relic (which it felt like it was). I turned it on and started to flicker through old unedited photos, each bringing a little smile and giggle to my lips. It was a simple happiness that I hadn’t felt in a long time. The feeling I’ve been trying to chase for so long, not knowing it was always right there under my finger tips. And with just holding the camera so much came rushing back. So many memories, old ideas, laughter and bug bites, every place I’ve been and planned on going. Just by holding a simple camera, but really I was holding all my dreams. All it ever was, and all it could have been for so long now at my disposal once again. 

I turned the camera off and put it back in the case gently, with a wide smile imprinted on my face. “All these feelings just by holding a camera. I wonder what I’d feel if I took her for a spin once again” I thought, with all these ideas floating around, my mind became even more restless, but I was happy, and it was worth losing a few hours of sleep over.

Skip to the next morning I decided to put my theory to the test and went for a walk with nothing but the camera. No stands, no models, no pre-planned anything. Just a walk. And god did that walk feel so good. I felt like I was brand new again, taking pictures of everything I walked past. Pictures of flowers, bikes, trashcans, benches, anything and everything I took a picture of and it felt so amazing. I couldn’t stop myself from walking and capturing every moment, so what was supposed to be a ten minute walk turned into two hours ending up far, far away from my house. 

I had fallen in love with what I never thought I’d touch again. And even more I had fallen back in love with myself and my brain with all these crazy and exciting ideas and plans. I felt like I was alive again and it felt incredible to be able to walk outside and feel a part of the world again. I found myself when I thought I never would, all because my love was always hidden behind a door, and in a camera bag.