Tell Me Who I Am

Born from watching people close to me try to fit expectations, this project sees identity as something slowly lost. Built portraits, not documentary, mixing classical references and memory. Lesbians share stories of desire, hiding, becoming. How?

This project grew out of watching the people closest to me spend their lives trying to fit into what was expected of them. At some point I stopped thinking about identity as something you have and started thinking about it as something you slowly lose track of.

None of this is documentary. Every image is built—through portraiture, nods to classical painting, and symbolic detail—to feel less like a photograph and more like something half-remembered. The figures aren't quite here, aren't quite gone. They exist in that uncomfortable space in between.

The people in these photographs are not models. They are lesbians who carried their own weight into the work—stories about desire, about hiding, about loss, about wanting to be seen. We talked for a long time before and during the shoots. What they shared didn't just influence the images; it changed how I understand my own work.

This project comes from a very specific world. But the questions don't belong to anyone in particular. How do you recognize yourself when you keep changing? What remains when the rest falls away? And how do you even begin to picture something as unstable as identity?