I was 30 and Terrified of Wrinkles

It seemed like a new one appeared every day. I started throwing as much money as I could spare at them. I spent hours in Sephora or London Drugs, carefully weighing my options. Retinol creams, hyaluronic acids, peels, masks, collagen supplements. What would banish these ugly lines from my face?

Not much worked. I was starting to feel really hopeless.

But one day I looked in the mirror and asked myself why. Why did I so dislike these wrinkles? I had to dig deep to find out.

And I finally came to an answer.

Time was writing on my face, and I didn't like the story it was telling.

The wrinkles I was getting were the wrong wrinkles. They were the frown lines of sadness and disappointment, the furrow lines of anger and worry. I had spent so much time on the outside, but ignored the inside.

I started noticing women who had aged. Really noticing them. And I saw beauty, not wrinkles. I saw women that glowed from within; their lines told a story of contentment and happiness.

Something had to change inside. No wrinkle cream could do that for me.

It was time to dig into what I actually wanted out of life. Time to confront the pessimism that ruled my life. Time to build myself up. To change my relationship with wrinkles. To focus on inner beauty.

And so that journey started, and it's one I'm still on today.

As a photographer, bringing out that inner beauty is paramount. I've designed my sessions to bring a sense of self-discovery to the process. To illuminate your face by connecting to that inner beauty. When that happens, the wrinkles don't matter.

Lines are the stories our faces tell. What is yours saying?