At the end of 2020, I got into a relationship with someone I had long had feelings for. Their appearance in my life seemed serendipitous, as I had been in an unhappy situation with someone for a long time and had only recently ended that. This reappearance buoyed my spirits and helped reaffirm for me that I was indeed desirable, that I had value and was worthy of a partner who saw that. I was head over heels for this person, but the relationship had distance I could never overcome and came to an end in early April 2021. Because my self-esteem was low and I still had such strong desire to be with this person, I agrees to maintain a physical relationship without an emotional commitment. You can imagine how well that went for me, being the sensitive bitch that I am.

There’s a man in the Calgary area who takes tintype portraits named Riley JB. I had followed Riley for quite some time on Instagram before finally booking a portrait. My sister and I sat for a portrait and the result was phenomenal. We gave the 4×5 inch portrait to our parents as a Christmas gift, and they were overjoyed with it. The experience and resulting product were so delightful that I booked another portrait with Riley.

The date of this portrait was in early July, and by the time I sat for the portrait, I was emotionally destroyed. I had spent weeks pining for someone who didn’t want me the way I wanted him, who would give me crumbs of attention when he wanted some affection, and who ultimately ghosted me less than a week after I had the photo taken. I was a disaster. There wasn’t a day that went by that I wasn’t stressed. I cried more than I ever had before over what I perceived to be my mistakes leading to the dissolution of what I had long imagined as my ideal situation. I promised myself this portrait was going to be an affirmation of me. Of who I was and who I could be, a grounded version of me to look back on in the coming years through adversity. A smiling face that said, “Hey, remember, you can do this.”

I sat for the portrait with Riley, who recognized my name and face from my previous booking and took time to walk me through the whole process in detail. I appreciated his approach more than he probably will ever know. The day was hot and I didn’t feel my best, nor did I feel like I looked my best. I needed a haircut, and my skin was rebellious. He took the first shot, and it didn’t develop quite right. A tintype is a delicate product to create, and once the photo is taken, the materials are irreversibly used. Material cost for each shot is high, so I was relieved when he said he would take another. I hated how I looked, and didn’t want that as a permanent reminder. He took the second shot, which I was much happier with, but still not overjoyed. I was so overwhelmed with the background noise of my unhappiness that any joy I could derive from the experience was fleeting. I thanked him profusely, as the human interactio was really something I was needing and headed out foe the rest of my day.

You have to let your portrait cure after it’s been coated in a protective resin for a spell, so Riley sends them home in spacious cardboard boxes. With the first portrait Mara and I had taken, I could barely keep from looking at it every five seconds. With my solo portrait, I didn’t even want to look. I regretted getting the portrait because of the context. I had wanted it to be a reminder of my solidity and capacity, and I had it taken at the most unstable time of my life. It was a reminder of how I was allowing myself to be strung along, to be summoned and dismissed by someone who had no respect for me or my time. Who used my empathy to soothe their upset and then disappeared. I was angry at myself for being so weak and pathetic, and here was an immortalization of my stupid face with my stupid tattered hair and battered heart, forever smiling at the world in her resignation to being a convenience rather than a choice.

I started seeing a therapist later in July. That was the single best choice I have made in my adult life. I made leaps and bounds in improving my mental health. My esteem grew and with it my willingness to push myself and expand my world.

I eventually took the portrait out of its box and stood it up on my computer desk, in my office that I rarely use. Away from daily sight. After living there for a few mo ths, I decided to reorganize the office space and the portrait.migrated to a shelf in the living room, still relatively out of sight. I hadn’t thought about it much until today, when the afternoon sun streamed through the trees outside and illuminated it. I saw it, and for the first time since it was taken, I looked at my own face and felt proud.

I’m proud of the work I’ve done to better my life. I’m proud that even though I considered ending how much pain I was in in a permanent way, I didn’t give in. I made good choices and sought support. I have changed so much about how I think and how I operate it’s not even funny. I feel that I’ve evolved a great deal, and now I can look back at that portrait and think about how little she knew she was capable of. How relieved she would be to know that things change so much for her. How happy she would be about the experiences and opportunities she would have in just a few months’ time.

I like the portrait now. Even with my round face and scraggly hair and imperfections, it’s a nice picture, and I’m glad I have it to remind me of how much I have accomplished and what I am capable of taking on in the years to come.