When I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease at age 13, I did not know how to express my emotions in a healthy way. I was accustomed to releasing frustration, sadness, and anger through my athletics, but when I became sick there was no way for me to continue benefiting from that outlet.

My disease caused my muscles and joints to hurt very badly, and the new medicine I had started taking had made me sick and weak. I took to unhealthy ways of letting out my feelings, and became severely depressed. At my worst times, I contemplated whether living was worth the pain I was in. When I started high school the following year, I was feeling a little bit better physically but still hurting deep within, and that is when I began taking photography.

I do not know whether I found it or if it found me, but it was a miraculous mistake that saved my life. I found ways that I could represent how I was feeling by pouring myself into each image I made. I was constantly thinking of new ways that I could represent the trapped feeling of being bedridden or the scared feeling of knowing that sickness is inevitable. Each time I would make a new series of images, I would feel more and more free of whatever was ailing me. My confidence grew with each critique, and I realized that I finally felt good at something.

Which each validation, I took more and more risks with my art. I credit art and photography to helping me recover mentally into the person I am now. If my life had not been saved by art, I do not know where I would be today. Art is the one constant in my life and will never leave my side. My passion will never fade, and I will endlessly continue to serve the arts with gratitude.