Reset Your Default

One of the most traumatic losses of Hurricane Katrina was my childhood photos—an extremely minor loss considering the countless people who lost their lives. Nonetheless, it was the major material loss for me, and that is taking into account the first home I purchased in Mid-City New Orleans the week before the flood.

I hold very few memories of my childhood. The ones I do remember are better described as nightmares. This is a common symptom of developmental trauma or C-PTSD. I think the pain of losing photos was the loss of proof that I was once a beautiful, innocent, sometimes joyful child. I was only left with my memories and those, I could easily live without.

My response to this loss was hoarding digital photos over the last 14.5 years. I snapped shots from meals, social gatherings with friends and acquaintances, random walks during travel, screenshots. I collected them without reason or order. I just knew I wanted a record of my life.

I would deal with the images later. Later is now.

This month, I am two years out from the moment I decided to leave my husband and four years out from my very tormented mother’s death. My ghosts are gone, and I feel safe and settled to face my life. Or I think I am.

Processing photos from over 14 years of life is hard. I removed the filter of my “perfect life” in the act of divorce. Since then, I have been very intentional about pursuing truth. Even still, it is a lot to digest. Facing my photos is proving to be the biggest reality check. My mind fills the gaps between images taken during travel. In many of my photos, I cut out my eyes or I am looking down.

I have an Apple iPhone with the default of Live photos. Live photos remove the lie. I not only get to see the product of putting on a presentable and believable smile; I get to see the sadness in my eyes, before the smile, on days perfection was forced and fake. The first day I encountered a Live photo, I closed my computer and went to rest and reset for hours. It was too much.

I have taken several breaks since I started the project of organizing my photos. Now, a week or two into the project, I now see a beautiful progression in images reflecting the truth of my life. I now hold myself differently. My shoulders are back. My chest is open. My head is held high. My eyes are not only showing more often—they’re brighter. My smile is genuine and unique in most photos as opposed to forced and fake. I can see progress and true proof of life in my photos. I am no longer hiding or reinforcing a facade of perfection.

This brings me so much joy. And while it does, this personal project is still a lot emotionally. It is 14.5 years to face and process. I have not set a deadline for completion because I am practicing being more realistic and offering myself more grace. So, I will continue to make order of this life I am in the process of building, past and present.

My Process

2 monitors: laptop and wide monitor with multiple Finder windows
Music: Spotify with familiar fresh beats and music that calms my nervous system
Scent: burning sandalwood
Grounding: weighted neck weight and large amethyst in my lap
DND: phone and laptop on do not disturb to prevent distractions
Snacks. Lots of snacks.