My work was an alternative approach to the family album, exploring how my childhood trauma impacted my adult life. I aimed to delve into my relationship with my mother and unearth memories I had suppressed during my upbringing. Much of my formative years were marked by neglect and abuse due to her struggles with alcohol dependency and her own mental health challenges. This project became a vehicle through which I explored these experiences—an attempt to reclaim a sense of control over my PTSD by using methods inspired by ‘flooding therapy’ to help me confront my trauma and find some peace with it.

Through self-portraits, documentary photography, and experimentation with found archival images, I documented my emotional journey throughout the project. My intention was to recreate archive photographs in a way that felt truer to my actual memories—challenging the often misleading narrative portrayed by childhood images. I actively ‘triggered’ myself to dive deeper into memories I had previously left untouched, in hopes of gaining a clearer understanding of myself and progressing in my healing, rather than continuing to suppress unresolved emotions.

This became an opportunity for rediscovery—both of my past and myself—while creating work that served as a cathartic photographic response to trauma. I followed the ethos of ‘healing the inner child,’ a term often used in the context of childhood trauma, referring to accessing the younger version of oneself and allowing it to express pain that was never properly acknowledged. I saw the work as a chance to reconnect with my past, not through suppression, but through artistic confrontation and care.

Revisiting deeply traumatic moments from my past came with risks, and I remained mindful of the possibility of pushing myself too far. I had previously engaged in therapy and was familiar with coping techniques, though I continued to struggle with BPD and PTSD. Despite this, I had a strong support network I could lean on whenever things became overwhelming.

I undertook this project as an artistic form of cathartic rehabilitation—an effort to reclaim ownership of my memories and understand my triggers more clearly. The result was a visual catalogue that helped me reassess my relationship with my trauma. While I acknowledged the risk that this process could be counterproductive, I felt secure enough in my recovery to explore these memories and confident in my ability to confront the hardships of my childhood.

This work was never intended to serve as a universal model for trauma recovery. It took years for me to reach a place where I could engage with my past so openly. My aim was simply to share my story in the hope that others who have experienced similar trauma might feel less alone.

I depicted individuals involved in my trauma from my own perspective, which may not align with how others experienced those same events. For this reason, I kept all identities anonymous. While certain people played a role in my trauma, I acknowledged that their narratives might differ, and it felt ethically appropriate to protect their anonymity in the work.

to heal her I became her again.