Photography has always been more than a passion — it’s been my lifeline. For much of my life, agoraphobia kept me trapped in isolation. The world beyond my front door felt overwhelming, and fear dictated where I could go and what I could do. But when I picked up a camera, something shifted.

Looking through the viewfinder gave me a way to slow everything down. Instead of being consumed by my surroundings, I began to concentrate on small details — a single subject, a line of light, the geometry of a street corner. Focusing on composition, leading lines, contrast, and framing turned chaos into something I could understand. The camera helped me narrow the world down to what was right in front of me, one frame at a time.

What started as a coping mechanism slowly transformed into a calling. Street photography taught me how to move through the world again, to seek out moments of humanity and connection hiding in plain sight. Each click of the shutter became a small act of courage, and over time, those small acts built a path back to freedom.

In this project, I pushed myself even further. I moved from the safety of a telephoto lens to a 28mm, forcing myself to get closer — not just physically, but emotionally. That shift transformed how I work, allowing me to step into people’s stories rather than observe them from afar.

This journey also gave me the confidence to step into new spaces, including concert photography — environments that once felt overwhelming now feel full of possibility. My progress behind the camera has allowed me to capture those fleeting, special moments that tell a deeper story. What began as a way to manage fear has grown into a way of truly experiencing the world — and sharing its beauty, resilience, and humanity through my lens.