New Orleans, Louisiana

There are two sides to every story, two sides to every girl. I suspect I know which half of me is reflected in each of these pictures, but in a way, I’m not sure. The half I thought was insecure looks strongest. Angry, sad, but resolute. The half I thought was tough is hiding behind her hair. She looks sad too — a scared kid putting on her grownup clothes and determined not to cry. It makes me wonder how often I’m who I think I am.

These were taken in New Orleans — one the day I arrived and one the following morning. As always, they mean more to me later. I see more. Understand more. If you ever want to know how I feel, ask for a self-portrait. Like any shape-shifter, I can bend words to my will. But my eyes? My hair? The placement of fingers on camera? These things are innate. They don’t lie the way words do.

My Baton Rouge story is written. But the other half will always lurk in the shadows. Thank God someone knows how to put two and two together. I don’t know how I’d find myself any other way.

Music: Bleeding by The Prom Kings (lyrics)