Photography For People Who Feel Unseen
As a Queer, Autistic creative navigating a world not built for people like me, I always noticed the details others missed. Being autistic means I move through the world differently. I notice things others overlook — small details, patterns, shifts in energy — and sometimes, those details can be beautiful. But other times, they’re overwhelming. Bright lights, loud sounds, unfamiliar environments — the things that most people brush off can sit heavy on me for hours.
I often need time to process, to observe before engaging. I might not always respond the way people expect, not because I don’t care, but because I experience the world on a different frequency. And in a society that rewards quick responses and constant interaction, that can make me feel like I’m out of step.
But I’ve found power in watching closely, in understanding people and places in my own time. It’s helped me build a life where I can connect deeply, even if I do it quietly. Where I can turn what feels like a challenge into a kind of strength.
My journey wasn’t linear. But over time and throughout understanding myself better as an autistic individual, I’ve built a business rooted in empathy, honesty, and intentionality. I bring my full self to every session — not despite my neurodivergence, but because of it. It sharpens my storytelling. It grounds me in authenticity. It allows me to connect deeply with people who often feel unseen.
I don’t believe in cookie-cutter poses or one-size-fits-all love stories. I photograph with a documentary soul — capturing the messy, the magic, and the moments that matter most. My voice matters because I represent and uplift stories that break the mold. My work is a mirror for those who’ve been told they don’t belong in tradition — showing them they do.
I’m not just taking pictures. I’m reclaiming space. I’m telling truths. I’m building a world where every love story — especially the queer, the neurodivergent, — is worthy of being witnessed, remembered, and celebrated.
Autism isn’t always easy — but it’s not something to fix or hide. It’s a different way of being, one that comes with its own rhythms, sensitivities, and strengths. If you’ve ever felt out of sync, know you’re not alone. Whether you’re navigating the world yourself or learning how to better support someone who is, take the time to slow down, notice the quiet moments, and honor the different ways people move through life. There’s beauty in those differences — sometimes, you just have to look a little closer to see it.
That’s why I do what I do — to create space for people who often feel unseen. Whether you’re quiet, neurodivergent, shy in front of a camera, or just used to blending into the background, you deserve to be witnessed just as you are. My work is about capturing the real, honest, in-between moments — the ones that reflect your true self. If that sounds like the kind of care you’ve been looking for, I’d love to connect. Let’s create something that feels like you.
As a Queer, Autistic creative navigating a world not built for people like me, I always noticed the details others missed. Being autistic means I move through the world differently. I notice things others overlook — small details, patterns, shifts in energy — and sometimes, those details can be beautiful. But other times, they’re overwhelming. Bright lights, loud sounds, unfamiliar environments — the things that most people brush off can sit heavy on me for hours.
I often need time to process, to observe before engaging. I might not always respond the way people expect, not because I don’t care, but because I experience the world on a different frequency. And in a society that rewards quick responses and constant interaction, that can make me feel like I’m out of step.
But I’ve found power in watching closely, in understanding people and places in my own time. It’s helped me build a life where I can connect deeply, even if I do it quietly. Where I can turn what feels like a challenge into a kind of strength.
My journey wasn’t linear. But over time and throughout understanding myself better as an autistic individual, I’ve built a business rooted in empathy, honesty, and intentionality. I bring my full self to every session — not despite my neurodivergence, but because of it. It sharpens my storytelling. It grounds me in authenticity. It allows me to connect deeply with people who often feel unseen.
I don’t believe in cookie-cutter poses or one-size-fits-all love stories. I photograph with a documentary soul — capturing the messy, the magic, and the moments that matter most. My voice matters because I represent and uplift stories that break the mold. My work is a mirror for those who’ve been told they don’t belong in tradition — showing them they do.
I’m not just taking pictures. I’m reclaiming space. I’m telling truths. I’m building a world where every love story — especially the queer, the neurodivergent, — is worthy of being witnessed, remembered, and celebrated.
Autism isn’t always easy — but it’s not something to fix or hide. It’s a different way of being, one that comes with its own rhythms, sensitivities, and strengths. If you’ve ever felt out of sync, know you’re not alone. Whether you’re navigating the world yourself or learning how to better support someone who is, take the time to slow down, notice the quiet moments, and honor the different ways people move through life. There’s beauty in those differences — sometimes, you just have to look a little closer to see it.
That’s why I do what I do — to create space for people who often feel unseen. Whether you’re quiet, neurodivergent, shy in front of a camera, or just used to blending into the background, you deserve to be witnessed just as you are. My work is about capturing the real, honest, in-between moments — the ones that reflect your true self. If that sounds like the kind of care you’ve been looking for, I’d love to connect. Let’s create something that feels like you.
