A Dream

While in France, I met a lot of truly dynamic women. Danielle, being the dynamic and enterprising type herself seems to be a magnet for these kinds of people. A lively, passionate group of writers, singers, dancers, bloggers, designers, publishers and so on. Goal oriented and determined, they were all living out their dreams in France. A little intimidated, I felt more comfortable listening to their stories than sharing my own. I am a stay-at-home-mom, doing her very best in raising a toddler and loving on her family daily. I wouldn't have it any other way, but it's hardly the exhilarating and rousing lifestyle of my new artsy companions. When asked, I told them about my daughter, showing them pictures on my phone, smiling from ear to ear and missing my little family so very much. At some point during each of these meetings, Danielle would proudly say something along the lines of, "Katie's also a photographer. You should see her pictures. She's really good."

And it got me thinking…

Am I? Am I a photographer?

I have always struggled with asserting who I am and what I stand for. I wouldn't call myself shy, just not overly self-assured. So Danielle's bold statement seemed to me to be, well, bold.  Do I enjoy taking pictures? Yes. And I like to write from time to time too. I love combining pictures with words to tell a story. My story. As simple as that story may be. But am I really a photographer or just a girl whose found a hobby she loves and can be passionate about? I don't know. I once read that if you love to dance, you're a dancer. If you love to paint, you're a painter. If cooking's your thing- you're a cook. So maybe, maybe I'm a photographer...

Many many months ago, before leaving Key West, a dream was born in me. In the throes of new motherhood, I found that taking pictures of the things I found inspiring was the release I needed that got me through the tougher days and what made the already good days more special.  I felt at peace behind my lens. And sharing my pictures here, with family and friends brought about a sense of fulfillment and of being connected with the people I love. Taking pictures made me happy. It stirred in me the same feelings that teaching once did-- fulfillment, passion, purpose.  The satisfaction that comes when you know you've achieved something bigger than yourself. I began thinking that maybe one day this could be something I extend into more than a hobby.

The difference though, is that I always wanted to be a teacher. I mentally prepared myself for years and years. Also with teaching, there was a very basic and uncomplicated path I had to follow in order to fulfill that goal. I went to school, studied hard, got the degree, interviewed for jobs, got the job, began teaching... It's a pretty low-risk path. I like low-risk. I prefer it. Photography though? Not so much. I didn't go to school for that, where over the course of a few years, I would have learned the ins and outs of my camera and gear, the technical side of photography, and slowly built a portfolio. All my life I prepared my head and heart to be a teacher. I found my rhythm in the classroom fairly quickly and even think I was pretty good at it. But now? Now I have this dream to do something else and quite honestly, it's scares the shit out of me. It's way out of my comfort zone. And what's more, I  have to make it happen. There will be no professors or cohorts to bolster me up and guide me on my way. No, I  have to do the work. I'm in charge of that. Maybe this shouldn't be so scary. But it is. The dream is big and I'm so afraid of it not coming true.

Slowly,  I released the dream. I told Jared,  my family and a few close friends about my hopes of starting up my own little photography business, and how I'd hoped to to gain readership here on my blog to help it grow. Of the few I told, Danielle was one of the most supportive and positive. I think because years ago, she held a dream close to her heart too. Of becoming a writer. For many years, she did the work, she put in the time. Sleepless nights of writing pages and pages. Critique groups. Writing conferences. And now she's a published author! I know that it wasn't easy for her. She worked hard. Putting herself out there, accepting rejection and failure when they came, using it as fuel and doing everything she could to realize her dreams. She had a plan to make it all happen and because she knows how important this is,  she has a plan to help me too. Part of the idea is for me to enter full-on into the world of social media. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. All of it. For Danielle, they've been the perfect platform for sharing her books and encouraging dialogue between readers and writers.  It's worked so well for her. I suppose it would be a good way for me to really put myself and my work out there too, and I'm trying to recognize the value in social networking, but truthfully, it's difficult for me.

In a world where everyone is logged on and linked in, how do we know what's real? Okay, I realize that I'm writing this all down on my blog which is social media in itself. But currently I have eleven followers. Eleven. And I think Jared accidentally followed me twice. I can see that there are others who visit this space, but I'm fairly certain they are all friends and a few family members (please join…please), people who I share my life with anyway, so I hardly feel exposed or out there.

The thing is, in this social media-saturated world that we live in,  everyone has a story that they must tell… to anyone and everyone willing to listen. And it seems that they want their story to be better than the one before it so that it can become a book or a movie or a youtube video or something.  I'm not really interested in all that. My fear is that by entering into the world of social media,  my ability to simply be will fade away. To be still. To be in the moment. I'm also afraid that the internet will become a place where I turn for approval or validation. I know in my heart that turning to anyone for these things is not a good idea, but perfect strangers on the internet? That could be dangerous. I also know that it's a slippery slope and could happen if I let it.

Having said that, I'd be lying if I said that I wouldn't like for this little blog to become a little bigger. To gain readers, to inspire and hopefully touch lives in a meaningful and positive way. I have to say that some of the most touching and heart-felt things I read these days are on blogs that I've found over the years. Everyday women with beautiful stories to tell. I wouldn't mind being a part of that. And if more readers meant that I could fulfill a dream, the one where I begin a little photography business, well I don't see the harm in that at all. I had it in my mind that if I one day became a photographer, it would happen more organically. By volunteer work, word of mouth, taking pictures for friends…but maybe these days, organically involves a wireless device and a twitter account...

And then I had this thought: Years from now, when Emerson is grown, how do I want her to know me? How do I want my daughter to remember me? I hope she remembers me as a person who loved, who lived life, who cherished the present and continually looked to a bright future. A person who worked hard and did things that were scary and uncomfortable. That I never stopped growing and learning. That I tried, that I failed and that I tried again.  That is a legacy worth leaving. And this is the kind of question that made everything so much clearer. 

All this to say,

I want to be a photographer. I want my own little business. 

I'm scared and unsure. 

Of it not working. Of exactly how to make it happen. 

And this is my truth,

 I'm worthy of the dream.

On the day I left France, I thanked Danielle for calling me a photographer. 

For helping me to see that I am. 

I am a photographer.