“Why do we feel that you’re pushing us out of your life?” someone said to me the other day. 
 
I sat stunned for a minute and thought about this deeply.  November 2018, I lost everything.  My home, my stability, my love, my self confidence, and my ability to cope with any given issue.  Maybe I’m just afraid everyone will abandon me, so I try to act blasé faire and unwavering in my thoughts and feelings?  Maybe I’m starting to choose people who make me feel safe and when I feel unsafe I go into defense mode?  Maybe, just maybe, I’m taking my power back?
 
This is just one of the psychological effects of Betrayal Trauma.  The term “betrayal trauma” refers to the damage that is caused when you experience a betrayal in your relationship that damages the trust, safety, and security of the bond you have with a significant person in your life.  While I still question the safety of many, I am also shedding that caregiving personality I had in my previous life.  The life that ended on November 14, 2018. 
 
Why am I wearing a wedding dress in this photo shoot?   Well, at first I was going to do a rendition of Truth Hurts and showing that I’m “100% that bitch.”  But, I’m not.  I’m a wonderful woman with so much love and compassion.  Yes, I have a story is tragic, but no more tragic than anyone else suffering from betrayal trauma.  For myself, a wedding dress is symbolic to family, innocence and new beginnings.   Innocence doesn’t end on your wedding night.  If you trust, love and have faith in yourself and your family, your innocence continues….until it doesn’t.
 
Loss of Stability
 
Whether you’re a family of two or a family of eight, a wedding is the beginning of a new adventure in creating your own family. 
 
Prior to August 2018, I had everything a woman could ever want.  A husband I adored.  Two grown children that I was so proud of.  A successful to me business.  Great friends who I loved dearly.  My life was complete and what was to follow was a fulfilled dream of a new “empty nester” adventure. 
 
I sold my home and moved to Ottawa Ontario for a new adventure because of a new business opportunity.  I closed my business (not hard, just phoned the gov’t), packed the truck and kissed my kids and friends goodbye.  It was a bittersweet moment.
 
From September to November 2018, I had one fantastic weekend filled with happiness and many memories.  The rest of my time in Ottawa, life as I knew it was completely destroyed.  I can’t get into the details. Unfortunately, had someone stole my car, my money, or my life, it would be public knowledge and I could speak freely.  No, someone stole my heart, soul, and erased thirty years of my life and, for that, I’m silenced.  This is part and parcel why society doesn’t understand the mental health component of betrayal trauma.  We’re silenced….I don’t understand why because, to this day, I’d much rather someone steal my car then experience the heart wrenching pain and mental suffering that I experienced. 
 
Loss of Innocence  
 
November 14, 2018 was the day that the old Trina died. In fact, I’ve had numerous sessions with my psychiatrist about the sequence of events leading me to pick up that Leveno tablet that day.  I tumbled down as quickly as the World Trade Towers on September 11th. 
 
It took 3 emergency trips to the hospital, one failed attempt of counselling, having all my belongings in my car and stolen, and the realization that I gave up my whole life for me to decide that it was time to leave Ottawa.  I left with the invitation that they could follow me to work on things, but I had enough of what this city delivered to me.  My parent’s 57 wedding anniversary was the day I left.   I really wanted it to work, in fact I thought it would be the gobsmack that would put humpty dumpty back together again.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t enough and that hurt a lot.  In fact, it tore me apart after giving away thirty years of my life. 
  
So here I was, a 46-year-old woman who was lost in life.  I should have taken stocks in Canadian Club whiskey in 2019 because I did a ton of drinking.  Until I woke up. 
 
I then asked myself a serious question. “Trina, how long has it been that you’ve undervalued your worth?”  Not only to the person who hurt me, but to those who viewed me, used me in the past, and those who I aspired to work for?   By allowing anyone and everyone an open door into my heart and constantly having it slammed it in my face timeless times, I was undervaluing my existence, my greatness and my future.  So many women do this and become paralyzed, insecure and needy.  Not only was I suffering from betrayal trauma, I was suffering far worse than that.  It was then, I started taking my power back.  I was no longer going to ask for what I needed, dreamed of or wanted from this broken relationship.  That had to stop that nonsense.  I was going to demand what I deserved. 
 
New Beginnings
 
It’s been almost a year since I left.  I have transformed my mindset from victim to survivor.  A survivor who wanted to share my experience to help others.  I’ve blogged about my whole experience on my site.  The blood, sweat and tears of betrayal trauma. I wanted to write about it real-time because I couldn’t find the real-time version of it when I was at my worse.  I didn’t want to hear that things would get better in time.  I wanted to know that I wasn’t bat shit crazy.  I am very proud of my transparency and extremely proud of my blog’s effect.    It gives me a great sense of value to help and console others during one of their most life altering experiences.  Now, I don’t know where it’s going to go because of the silence. Quite frankly, I’m OK with that as I will find a new form of expression into my newly created life. 
 
I’m trying to figure out this new dynamic, which is very difficult for me.   I have been assured that there will be bumps in the road, but I have to balance out my old personality, rituals, and routines with the new exciting changes within me.   
 
I have grouped with friends who also have been betrayed.  It gives me perspective on how to heal, grow and define my life.  We ask each other a lot of questions;  feeling questions.  We cry on each other’s shoulders.  We laugh, we share and we do coffee.
 
We have been told to “get over it” numerous times, however, we know that it’s not as cut and dry as it may seem.  Hell, a few years ago I was one of those, and here I am now, crying and apologizing to my friend because I didn’t understand the severe mental and physical effects of betrayal trauma. 
 
I am finally at my point of healing where I’m taking my power back.  No one will control my future and my thoughts. 
 
Something in Red
 
I decided that I was being bullied by so many people while I was healing to settle on my future.   I was told that it was expected of me to find a job that didn’t inspire or make me feel, at the very least, human.  I was expected to take what I could get and shut up.  I met this amazing employment counselor that helped me with retaining a little of myself and dispute that expectation. 
 
What many don’t understand is this.  I’m not the norm.  I never conform.  I’m alone on this new life journey where I’ve decided that I want to be as artistic and creative as I can possibly be.  I want to help people.  I want to laugh and be just as free and carefree as I was in my past life.   I’m a half assed writer.  I like photography.  I’m a dreamer, who has to recreate a new beginning for myself. 
 
I realized over this past year that my family was my dream, until my views of family and innocence was murdered and destroyed.   So what did I do?  I called the shots in my life.
 
I’m also thankful for this betrayal.  Yes, I can finally say that because I would have never found my voice, my power, and my magnificence. 
 
As of January 2020,  I am a full time student studying photography.  I have created goals that focuses on ME!  That’s one thing I haven’t done in over a year and it feels great!  
 
I want to open a marketing firm in the future because I have great business savvy and I communicate well with the younger generation.  I am a leader who has had so much trouble competing for a job because of the younger generation, so why not bring their world into mine?  
 
I get out nightly.  I sit at a local coffee shop and people watch.  I spend time with friends.  I am really digging deep into my heart and figuring out what I want, what I need and what I deserve.   None of this was my fault and I intend on creating an amazing ending to this story of my life.
 
I’m fearless.  I’m getting there. At times I still cry and wonder what could have been.   However, I’m taking my power back so no one can judge or hurt me again.  I am red and I survived it.
 
- Trina

Please head over to Trina's blog and read some of her other fantastic, inspiring and empowering stories!
You can find them here:   lifesablog.ca

When I first set foot on this journey of transitioning into my actual, true gender (that being (mostly) binarily male), the hate and contempt I held for my body grew and grew. Trying to pass as the person I saw and felt within myself was very frustrating as a newly out transgender person. The aching despair at being perceived as one thing when trying so hard to be seen as I truly am inside before I started my hormone replacement treatment (or even when I had just started) festered and roiled within me.

For a good two years I was hyper aware of everything wrong about my body and it’s mannerisms - how high my voice was before it dropped with testosterone, how feminine and round my face was, the way my chest looked even when I would bind it tight with sports bras and the like. I would worry about crossing my legs in public, speaking to people and having them hear the feminine lilt of my voice. The anxiety that consumed me in public continued in private, my breasts and hips taunting me, my body merely existing only adding to my mounting anger and disgust for it in my gut.

But suddenly it was a year and a bit on hormones and my pronouns were automatically "he/him" to perfect strangers, my breasts small enough to hide under a shirt (or two) without the constraint of fabric tying them down. My voice and new facial hair helped in making my body a home, soothing my social dysphoria as others embraced me as a man. 

Even further into my journey of self love and acceptance now, all of this turmoil and self loathing smoothed out and quieted in my head. For the first time since I stepped out as my true self I could hear above the din of that chaos and I could see through the shroud of my dysphoria. 

Through the beautiful communities and friends within that swath of folks like me that lie outside the gender binary - I found myself coming to a few realizations, all very important. One, that my self hate and admonishments were all done in order to fit into a binary I never wanted to. I felt shoved into this so that the public and other trans folks would deem me to be "truly trans"; a pitfall many young and fresh faced trans individuals fall into in the beginning of their transitions. 

Secondly, that I don't hate every part of my body and that that fact does not negate my transness. Many people believe that to be transgender you must hate every part of your body, to wholly hate yourself for not fitting the cookie cutter definition of the two roles society gives us: man or woman. What this idea conveniently leaves out is that there are and have been countless trans individuals that exist beyond that binary and do not necessarily despise their bodies but instead experience dysphoria in many other ways. That simply existing as transgender we will never be deemed cisgender (a term for a non-transgender person) by society.

The idea that I had to perfectly mirror society's view of what a cisgender man physically and mentally should be wrought more pain and needless suffering on me then my dysphoria ever did. That same idea has forced babies born outside of the norm as intersex to have surgeries foisted upon them, sometimes even without the parents full knowledge, to conform to this rigid binary. 

As I delved deeper into myself, discovering and exploring my sexuality in further detail, I came to the realization that that rigid view of what a man is is a cage I do not subscribe to. I wear these ropes in my photos with Lady Luck Photography as an ode to my body and rebellion to the sexual and gender norms of our world; as an acknowledgement that even if these breasts have me appear visibly trans rather than as cis - it does not bother me. Neither does having my bottom parts; as when delving into the waters of my sexuality I came to realize that the norms of a strictly monogamous and heterosexual society where a straight cisgender man will be with an equally as straight cisgender woman do not apply to me. That I am not a pariah in the pool of dating and intimate relationship because of my body, a body I once thought of as defective or unworthy of love. That there are many individuals in the realm sexuality I am interested in - that of kink and BDSM - who fully embrace the diversity that exists in trans and non-normative communities. That I am worthy of the kind of love and devotion I crave. The idea that any sexual and non-vanilla relationship is sinful or disgusting dissipated as I found myself deep down inside.

Overall it comes down to me not being made to conform to the stereotypical mold in mind or body to that of a cisgender man. I exist beyond the binary, as many cultures and peoples around the world have done for centuries before me, and I exist calmly and boldly in that space. These colours, those of the transgender pride flag, are strewn up and down my body as a war paint against those toxic ideals that trample me and other gender nonconforming people, especially those not born with the privilege of a paler skin tone.
​
As a dear friend of mine, Ivy (@cisturbed on Instagram), put it simply - "[I'm] beautiful because I'm trans, not despite it."

​- Sam

I’ve read all the blogs on Lady Luck’s website. I would be lying if I said I did not identify with much of what each of these models have already beautifully written. I highly suggest you take a few moments to read them. Each entry is so relevant (along with the end product of such awesome creative talent and so much fun)! You are likely to see a bit of yourself in the beautiful people who have been brave enough to take a good look at themselves and show the parts that either can’t be seen or have previously been too painful to risk exposing. Naming a life-shaping event, displaying a quirk, a talent, an interest that makes us unique or, a part of ourselves that previously was hidden out of misunderstanding, fear or loathing. Physical and emotional, Jennifer and company turn it all into a thing of beauty and celebration. A pivotal experience, a motivational piece.

I was the short, overweight, four-eyed, in-her-imagination kid and teen who never felt they belonged anywhere. Friendships and loyalties, even strong family bonds have been fleeting and fragile all my life, but not for lack of wanting or trying. It turns out it was a lack of understanding. Understanding how the mistakes of my earliest caregivers and mentors set me off looking for something that I wouldn’t ultimately find in someone else.  The understanding of how hurt people can hurt people, and no two people come from the same place or journey the same way at the same time.  The understanding that some people are truly special because they are conscientiously kind to others, even though they have themselves been hurt. This something was much closer and easier to obtain than I could have imagined until recently.

A very special person came into my life under the simplest, non-suspecting circumstances for a period that to me seemed far too short. They helped me with so much awareness of myself and what it means to love unconditionally. I would have never suspected that such people exist who could, without knowing and without really trying, heal such a variety of emotional wounds, from many people and situations that I had allowed to shape me and my self-concept so dishearteningly. For years I had wondered if I was ready to or had in fact, accomplished forgiveness of certain people for hurting me. I was already aware that I wanted healing but until I met this special person, the process felt incomplete and the sadness or anger would return in degrees and certain relationships never seemed to improve.

A perfect stranger turned into a friend and loved into me an awareness that I was beautiful inside and out. I was in awe that this perfect love I had chased and struggled with and never received was now mine. I began to forgive and reframe many old hurts from a place of unconditional love, like the one that was now being given to me. I began to take care of myself and feel truly beautiful, smart and appreciated. I trusted so implicitly and thought so highly of this person, who cared so beautifully for me, how could I not think highly of the person they thought highly of...myself? Part of my journey was learning about co-dependency and uncovering its roots in my story and changing toxic scenarios and relationships not just for my sake, from a space of unconditional love and a recognition that hurt people hurt people. I played a role that I hadn’t realized I was cast in and accepted only to become the most convincing actress; a willing participant of manipulative conditioning. One that I will never stop trying to defeat for the sake of mine and my children’s health and happiness.

As had been my guess based on the powerful feelings and changes taking place from this special person’s active presence and love in my life, our physical connection was only temporary. It has been difficult, as a truth seeker, to not have such a loving and illuminating presence with me. I cherish the memories and more so the knowledge that the relationship instilled in me. The wonderful thing is that love, and the things done in love, never really go away. There are times when I want to let myself slip…back to old ways of not being loving to myself…days when I struggle to respect the lesson that I do not need to give care to or save people from their own choices or equate having certain people in my life as a sign that I am valuable. Robbing someone of an opportunity to learn a genuine lesson…to prevent them from a journey, possibly like my own, goes against everything I’ve been through and stand for.
This experience has inspired me to dig deep and think about who I’ve been, who I am and who I will be. It is an opportunity for me to see myself both through my own eyes and the eyes of the one(s) who love me. It has shown me that it is not the opinion of others that makes my beauty, talents, strengths and gifts true…they just are.

The fact that I don’t celebrate them nearly often enough does not erase them. Having just turned 40 I feel that it is time to put focus onto my inner and outer beauty, in individuality, and celebrating the strength and courage that it takes to keep moving through a tough journey. I keep going and try to reflect this hope that so much beauty lies ahead and there are amazing people in the world who love despite weaknesses, flaws and hurts. I had the experience of one. I am one.

By caring for myself I am honouring the special person who helped me realize my beauty and unlimited potential, who asked nothing in return and never hesitated to forgive when I acted out of old beliefs instead of new and better knowing. This creative and collaborative process is a record of how far I have come, which will help me journey forward, not backward, just because I had previously been unable to see and feel my worth. Every time I see these pictures I will know the truth.


I am Brenda. My name means flaming sword. I am a healer. I am a recovering co-dependent. I am a diabetic and depressed individual who has been through a lot of emotional trauma in my life. My past doesn’t define me. I now define myself with truth and kindness. I actively choose to break cycles that hurt me and others. I am a sister, daughter, aunt, cousin, wife and most importantly mother of 3 amazing children. I am a special needs teacher and therapist to my son and an autism and special needs advocate. I am a Registered Nurse. I have welcomed life into the world, prevented sickness, healed the sick, helped save lives and been there to support those going home. I have made a difference in the lives of many patients and individuals.

I am highly principled and highly spirited. I have beautiful eyes and lips and a beautiful mind. I seek truth and justice in all I do. I love to sing with all my heart. I am intelligent, warm, compassionate and sensual. I have intuition and empathy in spades which I desire to help seekers and travelers by. I have dreams that I am still fulfilling. I enjoy reading, writing, history and learning languages. I long to travel within and without. I never want to stop learning. I am capable and strong. I lead when called to do so, without fear. I love people, all kinds of people.

I have many lovable and desirable qualities. I no longer need to focus on proofs of being unloved. No part of me is unlovable.  I inherently believe there were and are and will be more moments that I am given love and respect than I allow myself to see. I am love…loving and lovable…and I am grateful.

- Brenda

​

I had originally wrote a much different story for this blog, but a friend told me that it focused too much on 'him' and not enough about me. The truth is, I came to Lady Luck to feel something I hadn't felt in years: Beautiful. Pretty. Exceptional. Sexy.

It has been so long since I did something for me, to make me feel good. I couldn't say no for even one more day, it had to be done. Call me selfish if you want to, but I damned well deserve this. EVERYONE deserves a chance to feel this amazing!

I came to the studio newly single...feeling defeated, broken, and worthless. By the end of the shoot I was literally walking around the studio in nothing but a thong and a smile because Jen made me feel that comfortable in my own skin. I felt like I owned myself for the first time in a long time, and wow! what a feeling that is!

I have a new lease on life, honestly. I came in feeling like I was shattered into a million pieces, and left knowing that I wasn't broken at all, just a little bent. - Amie

I grew up in a weird household in that my mother believed in equality, but was very image driven. She is the kind of woman who never goes out of the house without makeup on and, even though they are not good for her, has heels on to go to work.

​These things are fine if that is what someone is into, but for a young girl growing up as a tomboy it left me very confused about who I should be and what I should present to the world. It also left me worried about exactly that, the world's view of me and my place in the greater whole. I was also, at the same time, dealing with media telling me exactly that, who and what I should be, but it didn't fit for me. I felt like I didn't belong and that started a war inside my head. I was athletic and liked to put way less fuss into my clothes and hair as other girls seemed to think necessary; makeup wasn't at all something that I bothered with. I was also the girl who played hockey and had to defend that I was a girl, time and again. I wasn't right as a "girl", but I also hated being one of the boys. I struggled for ages trying to simply fit in and find my place, instead of trying to find myself.


Eating disorders are also something that happen in my family. We had to clean our plates or we weren't leaving the table, but rarely did we have a say in portion size. I learned to love food and was active, but size comparisons happen and there was always comments about how bodies weren't right. One thing that sticks out to me is that I knew what thunder thighs were before I was ever introduced to the concept of loving myself and being happy with who I was as a person. This was the age of super models and stunners on the movie screen. No one was overweight in the media, to be so was disgusting and you didn't care about yourself. Even the extras were a size six at most, or at least it seemed to my young mind. I had a picture of myself in a bathing suit in grade five that made me cry because I truly thought, at that young age, that I was ugly and no one would ever love me. I ate to comfort myself. I ate because I was bored. At the end of school when my athletics went away, I kept eating the same way because I was truly unhappy.


At fifteen someone finally found me attractive at a period in my life where I didn't think that anyone ever would. I had actually written off ever having a relationship or the genuine love and affection for me that I craved so badly. I though that I had built a good shell but the truth of the matter is that all it took was some interest from anyone in an attraction type of way and the shell shattered. I let people into my life that I shouldn't have because I wanted to fill the void that love should fill. I missed the key rule that no one ever taught me, I have to love me before I can love someone else. I have to see worth in myself. Because I didn't have that love for myself, I opened myself up to abuse that I can't even stomach to think about now. My first sexual encounter was forced on me and I never thought to tell anyone until years later because I equated that vile act with love. It was a history of self-loathing and abuse that I allowed to happen because I didn't even know me at that point. I was living in someone else's idea of what my life should be.


It took me finally getting divorced in my late 20's, finding myself on my own with a child, to stop and try to figure out who I was and what I wanted out of life. I was at this point overweight, in the midst of one of the darkest and longest depression stints that I have ever been through. I wanted to throw up every time that I looked in the mirror. I was hideous and no one would ever care about me the way that I needed. The only thing that kept me getting out of bed every morning was this wonderful little boy who loved me completely and needed a mom to be around for a good long while. Stuck in the midst of all this darkness, I had to made the choice to make changes in my life. Nothing like hitting rock bottom to make needed changes. I changed the way that I saw myself first. If that redheaded angel could love me with my curves, then I could love them too. I stopped being disgusted when I looked in the mirror. I saw things that I wanted to change. I still do. However, I am kinder to myself about it now. Instead of just going "Ugh, you're disgusting", I remind myself to look up ways to work on that area to improve it. I also make sure to tell myself that I am worthy, even if there are things that I want to change. I also stopped living in someone else's idea of me. It is painful to look back and see just how much of myself I lost over the years, but I remind myself that my life isn't over yet and I can go forward everyday, putting me forward.

I am a big buxom girl, with a big mouth to match, but I own that because that is who I am. I love that about me. So, I am not going to change that for anyone. I have bad days where the old habits come back to haunt me. I stand in front of the mirror and jiggle my belly and lament that I am not the model on the cover of a magazine. I go to silence myself when I should speak up. We all fall short of our ideals. The key for me is that I acknowledge that and then put it aside to be the best me I can be. Self-love has saved my life and shown me that it is ok to be exactly who I am. When you see my pictures you will see that I have curves for days or that my belly isn't flat. I see a life time of struggle and perseverance, the marks of that and a strong survivor who is not about to give up now. I see a person who I am glad to say is me. I love me from head to toe.
- Shauna

This was my third photo-shoot with the amazing Jennifer, and I would recommend it to anyone!
Her energy is so positive and beautiful to be around, you can’t help but have the best day.

As soon as I read about her Cheer sessions, I was keen to come in for one, because I have been working hard on my own mental health for the last three years and wanted to help her support the Canadian Mental Health Association.
I have always struggled with self-esteem and, after a period of a lot of change and loss in my life, I found an amazing therapist who has helped me so much. I read a quote once ftom Brianna Wiest, that said, “Your new life is going to cost you your old one.” That turned out to be so true for me. I had a lot of friendships in my life that definitely relied on me making other people’s needs and
feelings more important than my own.

For most of my life, I have confused being nice with being kind. So, in trying to be kind and avoid conflict, I was agreeable to my own detriment. Ultimately, this led to a lot of resentment that I always was the last priority, including to myself.

A big step for me as I started to appreciate myself more was that I started to notice how my energy was affected by people in my life – if I felt good after spending time with them or if I felt like I was walking on eggshells.

Reach for people who are reaching for you. Spend time with people who lift up your energy – if you feel drained after talking to them or spending time with them, don’t do it. Don’t feel bad for ruthlessly cutting toxic energy out of your life. If everything is a conflict, it is kinder to both of you not to spend any energy on it.

This opened up a lot of mental space for me and, although it was isolating at first to move away from familiar friendships and relationships, it also creates a lot of space for great people and experiences to come in. I have built so many wonderful and supportive friendships since that are such a delight. Nothing will heal you faster than good relationships, but you have to believe
that you deserve it.

I chose yellow as my paint colour, because I wanted the photos to show the joy and gratitude I feel from learning to love myself. It can take a long time, but I promise it transforms your life.

- Becky

​

Growing up, I’ve always been on the heavier side. I mean, I ate right, I got plenty of exercise, but still, I was bigger than almost all the other girls. Around the time I was hitting puberty (probably age 11), I was really starting to grow.

Unfortunately for me, my hair wasn’t blond; it was black. I had the thick eye brows, black hairy arms and legs, but I still wanted to wear the cute skorts, and t-shirts. Sadly, that was also the time when my insecurity issues started. I liked certain boys, but the boys didn’t like me. Picked on for having hairy legs, and a moustache, not being girly enough, I always covered my body because I was ashamed. Fast forward to grade 11, some things have changed, slimmed down a bit from playing rugby, “grew” in the right places, and I met a boy who would later become my husband.

During the honeymoon stage, every was good. But we don’t have a lot in common, but I liked that about him. A year into the relationship, I move away, but we continue our relationship long distance until one day, he asks me to marry him! I say yes! We’ve hit some rocky points in the relationship by now, but we’re still wanting to get married. The planning process, still rocky.

The wedding day, amazing, first two years of marriage, pretty decent for never having lived together before! The romance over the years, slowly dwindling.

Now we fast forward to December of 2018, and some stuff happens that floors me. January, the relationship is on this ice, and I’m bending over backwards trying to fix it, trying to make it work. Doing things I think would make him happy. At this point, I’m feeling like a failure because nothing is working. He just wants out. I’m a failure of a wife, a failure in my profession, because my personal stuff is affecting my ability to do my job. Then I start to think I’m a disappointment to my parents and family because my marriage is in the crapper.

And now, insecurities are through the roof and I’m in a dark, dark, place. I felt like I was in water, and even though I know how to swim, I just couldn’t break the surface and I was drowning. I didn’t know how to handle everything that was coming at me. It seemed that every time I opened my mouth to talk to the man who was supposed to love me unconditionally forever, it made him frustrated and not want to be around me.

Thoughts of suicide because I couldn’t make my husband happy, but I wanted to because I loved him. Thoughts of suicide because of personal stuff getting in the way of me performing my duties at my work place. Thoughts of suicide because I’m letting my parents down and not giving them a grandchild. This is not what I wanted for my life. I thought I’d be married at 21, first child by 25, second by 27, maybe a third by 30. A house somewhere in between all that.

Well, I’ve just turned 30 and no kids, I’m separated/divorcing, and my husband-not-husband, is already dating someone new. We’ve come to realize that we were trying to hard to keep our relationship like it was when we got together. We didn’t give it room to grow, nor did we support each other in the things we wanted to do. We didn’t communicate.

Thankfully, I’m still alive. Even through all of that, I’m still breathing. I knew I was in a dark place, and I sought help. I took a week off of work, reflected on myself, and reached out to my doctor, and she said that I have severe depression, and that she’s putting me on medication. I reached out to my mom, and to anyone I thought would be able to help me, and who would understand. Shockingly enough, some of my family members even shared their stories of when they went to the dark place. In a weird way, I felt better knowing I wasn’t alone. I had more people than I realized who knew the pain I was going through, and were there to help me.

With therapy, and medication, I’ve been working really hard to feel better. And so far, it’s working. I’m learning to pick my battles, I’m learning to LOVE myself before anyone else. I’m learning that a man doesn’t define me. A man doesn’t make me happy. I need to make me happy. I’m doing things for me now. For my birthday my mom, brother and his girlfriend, all pitch in and do something extremely wonderful by contacting Jen at lady lucky and book a shoot for me. I choose pin up.

We scheduled a time to meet, and instantly click. Some laughs, some tears, we bond. The day of the shoot comes, I’m prepared for everything. And Jen made me feel so comfortable, like I’ve known her for years, and with every click of her camera, I’m feeling beautiful.

Every time she said something sweet, I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t hear that often. I never felt beautiful. I never felt worthy. I’m not sure if there is anyone out there who can relate to my story, but just know you are not alone.

You are beautiful! You are loved. You deserve to be here. You deserve to be happy. Book with Jen! You will not regret it, you’ll have the most gorgeous photos to remember the day and the way you felt, and it’ll empower you every day! I’m still on a high from the shoot day a week ago. I feel invincible, like nothing will ever bring me down or hurt me. I’m loving myself more because of it. And so should you. 

- Jacqueline

John and I have been together for 13 years. We've been married for 10. It seems like no time at all and forever all at once. We have two kids and a dog who all keep us busy. When I was pregnant with our oldest John was diagnosed with cancer. He is healthy now but it was tough go for a bit. Everything that from the outside looks like it should tear us apart brings us closer. Every couple hits challenges and it's how you deal with it that will determine the strength and longevity of your relationship.

I'm a plus sized girl, always have been. John has always seen me as beautiful, always. Some days I doubt it but he always reminds me. I've lost weight and gained weight while we were together but he's never changed how he looks at me or makes me feel.

I've always been proud of who I am and what makes me, me. Doing a photo shoot like this gives you power. It shows you how someone else sees you, sees your relationship. When we are old and wrinkled I want to look back at these photos that Jen did for us and remember that we rock, that our love is strong and that we were fearless in that love.

- Trish

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