I photographed these footprints in the sand
because I too have left my marks
where I once felt invisible.
My steps are the voice of my childhood,
a voice that feared it might disappear.
Each indentation is a wound,
each footprint a scar,
yet the sand still receives them,
and the wave still comes to erase them.
I see renewal in this:
even if your pain leaves its trace,
the world is still willing to wash it away,
to soothe it,
so you can stand on this earth again—
not as someone who was never heard,
but as someone ready to breathe once more.
This photograph is my quiet manifesto:
even if you feel lost,
the Universe still carries you back to the beginning.
Each touch of the sand is a reminder:
you can renew yourself,
you can be here again—
even if you’re different, even if you’re vulnerable.
