Me As A Mother and Myself.

Following the birth of my twins, I felt my own identity start to fade. This 8-year photographic journey was my search for the self. This series is the quiet peace I found: a fluid equilibrium where two selves can finally coexist.

This work is an exploration of the boundary between my identity as a mother and the individual I call myself. Central to this inquiry is the presence of my twin children, born in 2017.

The joy of welcoming them was immeasurable. Yet as I grew more intimate with them, I felt the boundary between us dissolve, and in its place, an indescribable anxiety began to build, as if the very contours of my own being were starting to fade.

I found myself asking, "What truly separates the mother from the self?" Photography became my search for an answer. My days were spent tracing the faint outline of "I"—in the forms of my children and in the mundane objects that surround me—pressing the shutter only in moments that stirred my soul. And all this, even as my lens was focused on the children right before my eyes.

On this eight-year photographic journey, I came to a realization. The self I believed was gone had not vanished; it had simply fused with my maternal identity, changing its form to reside within me. I do not know if this self was always there, waiting, or if it was I who had been transformed.

But at last, I have learned to clearly see my two selves, and to embrace them both. I have arrived at a place where the mother and the individual can coexist in a fluid equilibrium.

Whether my gaze is that of a mother or I am standing beside them as simply me, I am unwavering in my own sense of self, filled with a deep and quiet peace. This inner tranquility, found through photography, I now feel, is the greatest happiness I have known.