nudity.slip

Shooting with

Added 2025-07-01 17:00:05 +0000 UTC

There’s a phrase — “losing yourself in a relationship.”

People fear it deeply — the idea of dissolving into someone else, becoming no one, or becoming a “we” instead of an “I.”

I never believed in it. I loved freedom, I loved control. I’ve always kept my boundaries sharp. I was in relationships, but always an individual. And now I still am — but everything around me has changed. I’ve changed countries, rhythms, languages, environments — all for love. And I did it consciously. But when you change your whole life for something or someone, the feeling of “losing yourself” comes creeping in.

I feel like I’m losing myself. My usual surroundings are gone — my people, my cafes, my familiar streets, my language. And without all that, I ask: what is left of me? Who am I without my things, my rituals, my daily identity?

We all tend to define ourselves through where we live, what we do, what we own, or how we want to be seen. We put on masks to make sense of ourselves and to make ourselves legible to others: “I’m a photographer.” “I’m a model.” “I’m Ukrainian.” “I’m a woman.” These are just human-made words. And when you first try on a mask — let’s say “photographer” — you like it. You grow into it. People around you get used to seeing you that way, too. Eventually, you become fused with that mask. And here’s the trap: even if the mask no longer feels right, you keep wearing it — because you’re afraid of what will be left when you take it off. You fear people won’t see you anymore. You fear becoming “no one.”

So we hold on to what we’ve outgrown — because just being a person never feels like enough.

And so here I am in Mexico — not lost in a relationship, but stripped of many masks. Trying to understand: who am I really? What does my “I” long for?

There’s no answer yet.

Just full-on frustration.