15/06/2026
Some stories stay with me long after the photos are taken.
This is one of them.
I don't photograph who someone once was.
I make visible who they've become.
—
"I didn't become this woman by chance.
I became her by trusting myself."
When I started studying photography, I was only seventeen.
Too young, perhaps.
Too uncertain, certainly.
I entered a world that felt bigger than me.
A competitive environment.
A difficult situation at home.
A constant feeling that everyone else seemed more confident than I was.
But even then, there was something I already knew.
I observed.
I always had.
As a child, teachers called me a dreamer.
Looking back, I think I was simply paying attention.
Watching.
Remembering.
Seeing.
For a long time, I thought confidence belonged to other people.
The years taught me otherwise.
Working at a contemporary art museum opened my world.
I met artists.
Travelled.
Created opportunities.
Learned.
And slowly,
I grew into myself.
One journey changed everything.
Cuba.
I learned Spanish.
I discovered a second home.
And years later, a dream came true when my work was exhibited in Havana.
Life taught me something else too.
Most fears are much bigger in our minds than they are in reality.
Not everything needs to be controlled.
Not everything needs to be known in advance.
And then life asked something much harder of me.
To continue without someone I loved deeply.
My best friend.
My soul companion.
The person who believed in me when I still struggled to believe in myself.
Before he died, he told me:
"Creo en ti."
"I believe in you."
And from that moment on,
I had to learn to do the same.
People often think I am strong.
And perhaps I am.
But strength and sensitivity are not opposites.
I am deeply sensitive.
I always have been.
The difference is that today,
I trust myself more.
I trust the axis around which my life turns.
The older I become,
the less interested I am in success.
Success is relative.
What matters to me now is freedom.
Peace.
Love.
Humour.
The possibility to keep doing what I love.
And photography?
Photography is still what it has always been.
A way of paying attention.
A way of slowing down.
A way of seeing what others no longer notice.
A shadow.
A tree.
An empty chair.
A small moment of beauty hidden inside an ordinary day.
If people take one thing away from my work,
I hope it is this:
To pause.
To breathe.
To see.
Because there is still so much beauty around us.
If only we take the time to look.
—
Creo en ti.
Today,
those words still guide me.
And now, finally,
I believe them too.
—
This is what I love to photograph.
Not who someone once was.
But who they've become.
📍 The woman behind photographer