That word—sensitive—stuck with me. It had followed me my entire life, a quiet whisper behind every interaction, every misunderstanding, every moment I felt out of step with the world around me. I was just a little too much or too little of the right things. Too intense, too fixated, too quiet, too awkward. Not quite getting social cues, over-explaining, missing jokes, feeling exhausted by the smallest interactions but craving connection. I had carried these feelings for so long, like an itch I could never quite scratch, a puzzle where the edges never fully aligned.
And suddenly, in the middle of a global crisis, in the silence of my abandoned college apartment, everything made sense.
A New Lens on My Life
The more I learned about autism, the more I realized that my struggles weren’t just personality quirks or weaknesses to “fix”—they were part of me. They were part of how I experienced the world, how I processed emotions, how I navigated relationships, and yes, why the pandemic had shattered me in a way I couldn’t put into words before. Routine wasn’t just comforting to me—it was essential. Social interactions weren’t just tiring—they were something I had to consciously learn and perform. And the feelings I had struggled with my entire life weren’t just anxiety or depression—they were also burnout from years of masking, adapting, and trying to exist in a world that wasn’t built for me.
Autism wasn’t something separate from me. It was me. It had always been me.
There was a strange kind of grief in that realization—grief for the younger version of myself who never had the words to explain why she felt different. Grief for the years I spent trying to force myself into spaces where I didn’t quite fit. But along with that grief came something else: relief.
How This Led Me to Boudoir
When I graduated, I wasn’t sure what came next. The world was still uncertain, and so was I. But what I did know was that I wanted to build something that felt aligned with who I was, how I saw the world, and the way I experienced connection. Photography had always been an outlet for me—an escape into a world where I could communicate through light, shadow, and movement instead of spoken words.
Boudoir, in particular, spoke to me in a way I never expected. It was intimate, yet structured. It was about capturing someone in their truest form, beyond the expectations and performances we all carry. It was about creating a space where people—especially those who have felt different, unseen, or outside of the “norm”—could fully be.
As someone who spent so much of her life masking, adapting, and trying to be palatable to the world, boudoir became a way to unmask. Not just for myself, but for my clients. A way to give people the space to see themselves without the scripts, without the expectations, without the weight of the outside world.
Because I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t quite belong.
And I know how powerful it is to finally see yourself—and be seen—exactly as you are.
The Beauty of Unmasking
Coquette Boudoir is more than just a photography studio. It’s a place where you don’t have to fit into a mold. It’s a space where all expressions of beauty, identity, and self-love are celebrated. It’s for the ones who have felt out of place, the ones who have struggled to see themselves as worthy, the ones who are still figuring it all out.
Because the truth is, you don’t have to change to be worthy of being seen. You don’t have to shrink yourself or perform or meet some impossible standard. You, in this moment, as you are—that is art. That is enough.
And I would be honored to capture it.
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