April 10, 2014

growing pains

22 years ago, I was still safely enclosed inside my mother. Little did anyone suspect, my arrival into the world was a surprise at best. I came barreling into the world at 100 miles per hour and fought like hell for my right to claim space here in the world. I came into this world a fighter, hooked up to machines and wires and always setting off my bells and whistles because I wanted to breathe on my own. I have a scar as a reminder that I staked my claim, when I was rushed into heart surgery at a week old. I was born at 27 weeks. I was 2 pounds, 13 3/4 inches long, and my dad could hold me in the palm of his hand. On Monday, I officially turn 22. Birthdays have been a sore spot with me since 18. My heart clams up, refusing to grow and take in another year. "Growing Pains" is a series about vulnerability, about me coaxing another year around my heart that feels too big for my chest. This series will ultimately grow with me, documenting the years ahead as I age and grow into myself.

For now, this is me at 21 years, 360 days, 10 hours & 39 minutes old.
I am vulnerable. I am growing, still growing, always growing, into the person I am meant to become.

1 comment:

  1. I love these photos, and the context of your arrival to life.

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