I have this painted rock sitting on my desk within reach of my mouse and keyboard. In Tacoma, people paint and hide rocks around the city, called Tacoma Rocks (Ha, get it?!). This rock is painted bright blue with white clouds covered in glitter and under the clouds it says “DREAM.” I found this rock a little over two year ago, and I remember clearly the day I found it. I had just made my first family film of my kids with their cousins and I was hooked, obsessed. I knew this is what I wanted to do. I remember going on a run and being filled with so many emotions, dreaming big dreams, but then calling myself into question, doubting my capabilities. Then I looked down on the sidewalk under a lamppost, and there was this sparkly blue rock staring up at me, telling me to “dream.” I played with video on and off for a year, and then a year later signed up for Courtney’ Holmes’s course with The Filming Life Academy. Over the last year my films got better and better. When I am shooting I feel so joyful, so present in the story that is unfolding in front of me. When I edit and put the films together it feels like I’m writing a love story whether it is written directly to my children or a love story about another family. I feel alive.

So when I started sharing my films I assumed everyone else would feel just as alive as I did the first time I learned about family films. But that didn’t happen. I continued to shared and share some more. Overtime I have let myself get swallowed up in self doubt, questioning my capabilities, questioning my worth, questioning my path. So I climbed into my box of insecurity, hiding the thing that made my heart explode. Yea, I shared to social media and blogged my work, but inside I was hiding in a corner. Afraid to be too vulnerable, afraid to show people how dang special these family films are to me, afraid to share how damn much I want to make this the core of my business. Because, what if I didn’t succeed, what if I failed? What would people think? But then the great Brene Brown reminded me what it means to “dare greatly,” to step into the arena even if you get knocked down and kicked to the ground. Because this is where my heart lives and to ignore that would be something I would always regret.

So here I am, stepping (or maybe popping) out of the box with a direction. No longer cowering in the corner in fear of what others will think. I don’t want to be a family photographer who sometimes makes films. I want to be a family filmmaker who sometimes takes photos. So here I am.