When Cottage Cheese Made Me Feel Alive

When the nurses wheeled me from the emergency room and admitted me to the hospital I insisted they had the wrong girl. I have food poisoning, I said. I ATE BAD COTTAGE CHEESE, I practically yelled as the elevator doors closed. In spite of my protestations, it was the 4th of July and I'd be spending the night in the hospital.

JD arrived to room 403 with sparkling water, the first season of Parenthood, and his usual smile. I stared at the ceiling and cried. It had less to do with the fact that I was admitted and more to do with priorities. My priorities. They, much like the fireworks somewhere in the distance, felt splayed across the night sky. I turned to JD and promised to change…everything was changing. I'm going to take long walks, I said. Oh! And drink pina coladas! With no sugar…and virgin…because I'm BEING HEALTHY! And I'll dance in the rain. And I won't complain any more! And I won't buy any more neon pants like I promised!

It was one of the longest nights together. Every time I wavered, he was my solid and though I hope to never repeat that night again, I'm blown away to have someone as incredible as him by my side.

When I was released, JD asked if I still wanted to continue with the engagement session I had planned to shoot. In light of everything we'd been through, I turned to him and said yes. Actually, it was hell yes but seeing how my mother thinks hell is a swear word, I promised her I wouldn't blog about it. Oops.

I photographed the engagement session because every inch of my soul wanted to be nowhere but behind my camera. A place I feel excited, challenged, fulfilled, and–mostly–alive.