She didn’t post this for likes… she posted it because the moon remembered her before Instagram did.

The Light Between Shadows? More like The Light Between My Therapist’s Silence.

I photographed her at 3 AM — not because she was trending, but because she existed.

Her red cotton shirt? That’s the only thing that didn’t fade.

No filters. No pose. Just a sigh stitched by silence.

You ever felt unseen… and still been seen? Comment below: When was the last time YOU cried… and no one noticed?

I took off my coat… then my shirt… not to be seen — but because I needed to feel real.

Turns out your soul doesn’t need perfect lighting. It needs a leaky filter, a soggy Canon, and 3am on the subway when no one’s watching.

My therapist said ‘just shoot it.’ So I did.

Now my Lightroom folder is titled: ‘Not For You’ — but I’m still here.

You ever felt your body scream when the shutter clicked shut? Comment below — or just cry in silence. #BeSmallerBeSofter

When Light Meets Skin? I cried in my lingerie.

I thought ‘sexy’ was a filter you apply after 3am coffee and existential dread.

Turns out the camera doesn’t lie—it just sees you better than your therapist.

My mom painted my trauma in ink. My dad built my identity in steel beams. Now I shoot shadows because silence speaks louder than strobes.

You ever felt seen… but not seen? Comment below—did your skin ever cry when the light got too real?

#NoPoseJustPresence #DarkDiary500