On Wednesdays, I’ll be posting insightful, inspirational true stories from women who are working on reclaiming their identities and finding themselves again. Today’s post is from a lovely lady named Nikki, who inspired me to start these guest posts. I thank her for her courage in sharing her story. It wasn’t easy for her, but I know everyone can take something valuable away from what she has to say. And by the way, all of the photos included are from her personal collection…

“When Jessi first asked me to write a guest blog, my first thought was how flattered I was. Then came the feelings of nervousness and self-doubt. The same old tapes running through my head that have been there for years. You know the ones. “What could I possibly have to say that people will want to hear?” and “Do I really want to share my failures with the public, so they can see what a mess I am?” Then I came back to the difficult lessons I have learned over the past several years. I need to share my imperfections. I need to be real with myself and others. If I don’t, then what I have gone through meant nothing.

My name is Nikki and I am a photographer. Those words don’t come easily. For almost 20 years, I identified myself as a stay-at-home mom, wife and home-schooler. It was much more than that, though. I was also the housekeeper, cook, gardener, accountant…you name it, I did it. Not only did I do it, I had to be good at it. Identifying myself as a photographer somehow means I didn’t do the other things as well as I should’ve. I now have to be someone else, when in actuality, that person was there all along and should’ve been allowed out sooner.

I don’t blame anyone for the feeling of having to do it all. My husband wasn’t cruel or abusive in any way; he was just busy. I knew if I didn’t do it, it wouldn’t happen, or, at least, that’s how I felt. If he helped with the dishes or vacuuming I thanked him, because, somehow, those were my jobs. He had enough on his plate and how difficult is managing a household anyway? I had read all of the books on moms needing to find time for themselves, but rarely did it myself. I used the excuse of being an introvert; I’d rather just be at home. While true, what I didn’t realize is what I needed was time on my own. I needed to feed my own soul, so I would be better able to feed the soul of my family.

By the middle of 2006, I knew I was beginning to fall apart. I couldn’t focus, the kids schooling was deteriorating. All I could think of was, “How do I get out?” I just wanted to run, to escape. I was extremely angry, mostly at my husband. I felt myself blaming him for not being around and “making” me be everything for him and the kids. I no longer wanted him around.

I look back now and think I had a breakdown, although I didn’t know it at the time. In March of 2007, I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to either leave or I was going to die. So I left. It was like I was walking through a dream. I don’t remember much of it. What I do remember is being able to breathe. I no longer felt like I was drowning. Once I left, I realized I couldn’t go back. It wasn’t my husband I was leaving; it was the way I was when I was with him. I had found myself again and I couldn’t risk ending up in the same position.

It’s been over three years since that day. Yes, I have regrets, mostly involving my kids. I came from a divorced family and never wanted my kids to go through that. I knew what leaving would mean though, and I chose that path. For me, it was a choice between that and no one ever seeing me again.

During that time photography became a savior to me. I picked up a camera and the world disappeared. I was free to explore and discover a world I had never seen before – the one through a lens. I was learning, making mistakes and creating. I felt like I had found myself again. Not only did it make me happy, but others seemed to get enjoyment out of my photographs as well. I wish more than anything that I had found it years ago. I honestly believe it could have made a big difference in how I dealt with my life. Shooting gives me the time I need to recoup and reenergize, to just be with me.

So here we are today. I’ve survived. I’m happy. I’m not perfect. My apartment is a mess a lot of the time. My kids are great, but definitely make mistakes. I eat too much. I yell at the guy I love (and he doesn’t leave and neither do I). I allow myself to feel; to not only be happy, but angry, stressed and frustrated. Trying to do and be it all for everyone around me didn’t work and can’t work. No one is perfect, but I tried to live like I was for most of my life.

There are some very important lessons I’ve learned and am still learning from the mistakes I made. I’m putting them here hoping it will help some of you, so you don’t have to go through what I did.

• Be real. This doesn’t mean baring your soul to anyone that asks how you are day is, but don’t be afraid to show that you mess up

• Talk to friends. Find someone you can cry with, laugh with, and scream at

• Don’t do it all. The world will not collapse if the dishes aren’t washed and beds aren’t made. Relax

• Find a hobby. Something you enjoy. Not something for your kids or husband. Just you

• Take breaks without feeling guilty. Go out for a night on your own. Get your nails done. Have a coffee. Go to the library without the kids and read a book in silence

• Be honest with your husband/partner. Don’t feel like you have to shoulder it all on your own. Tell him when it gets to be too much. You are a team – make sure to remember that

Thanks so much, Jessi, for allowing me to take up space on your blog. If any of you would like to know more or just need someone to talk to, feel free to email me at nicoleraephotos(at)gmail(dot)com.”

To read more from Nikki, thank her for sharing or see more of her breath-taking photography, drop by her blog, Nicole Rae.

More photos from Nikki’s portfolio: