Pre-editing
Standing at my client and friend, Vanessa’s front door. I just finished taking pictures from her wedding and “pre-honeymoon” photos. While we were walking out I couldn’t help but tell her about a guest at her wedding today.
“Can you believe this guy had the balls to stick his card between my breasts telling me to call him, he wanted to brighten up my flash and wanted to see how I could beautify his world.”
I scoff as Vanessa looks at the card, “Hey, wait. I know this guy. I met him at a few dinner meetings Trevor had. He’s quite a catch Roxy. You should give him a chance.”
I scoff, “Blaine Harrington, sounds like a pretentious prick if you ask me.”
Vanessa shakes her head, “Yeah and my husband was the biggest pain in my ass until I finally gave in. Now, I can’t wait for forever with him.”
I look at her saying, “Well, have fun, but no thanks for me.”
I leave my friend to her honeymoon, I mean to be honest, Trevor is walking, talking, sex on a stick, so I don’t want to hang around and mess up the honeymoon vibe. Let’s be real, the honeymoon shoots were always hot, but theirs was smoking hot. There were definite sparks and I didn’t want to get caught in the flames.
What I said to Vanessa was true, I mean have fun, but been there, done that and I’m not interested in any man telling me what and how to do things. I escaped that hell and I have the emotional scars to prove it. Every time I do a wedding shoot, it sends me thinking back to my past.
Being married for five years until I finally escaped that. My ex-husband of two years, Bryan, was super controlling and supportive on the outside to those looking in, but in truth he stifled everything I wanted to do. He didn’t like me having friends and going out, he didn’t like my photography and although he, at first, encouraged it, as it grew he started pressing me with his narcissistic ways to keep me from doing it.
The fault is not all his, I mean, I’ve always been a people pleaser, so when he was unhappy, I tried to make things better. Only the more I made things better for him, the worse things were for me. I hated who I had become. One day, I snapped. The life I thought I would have was nothing like what I had. I wanted my life back. I wanted to share my life with someone, not give up every ounce of who I was to make them happy, with having me disappearing more and more. So, I walked out.
I don’t know where I’d be without my parents. My mom and step-dad, took me in until I could be back on my feet. I was lost at first and part of me was scared to trek out on my own. All the negative things that were ever said to me my whole life played on repeat in my head. I faltered for a little bit.
Was I lonely? Maybe, but mostly I was free. I enjoyed leaving the house without questions. Texting people, scrolling social media and promoting my business without constantly being questioned or made to feel like I was doing something wrong. It was freeing, so forgive me if I wasn’t in a hurry to date or even have a man around to make me feel bad again.
For six months I saved every penny so I could afford a rent to own small studio with an apartment above it. Which served a dual purpose, my business and my home. The building was a building which had doors that rolled up like a garage. There was the main room and three other rooms. One of the rooms was a bathroom, sink and shower. It wasn’t much to look at, but with a little hard work and some money I received in my divorce settlement, I was improving the look of it.
My mom, my step-dad and step-brothers jumped in to help me remodel. It was only minor things here and there, hanging pictures, moving furniture once I had it all delivered. We spent a week getting it in order and when it was done, we cracked a few bottles of champagne and celebrated my new start.
I remember that day like it was yesterday, after my parents left, my brothers stayed to talk. Even though they weren’t my blood brothers, it felt like they were. They looked out for me and I for them. I was the oldest, but in some ways, they had more life experience than I. I had been sheltered for some of my life, and to be honest, I was very naïve. I loved living in my perfect world that existed in my head. But unfortunately, that is how I lost who I was. So I learned, I grew and my brothers stood beside always being my sounding board.
The second oldest, Baxter said, “Sis, are you really okay? I mean it’s okay if you’re not. The parents are gone, no need to pretend.”
The youngest, Max said, “Definitely, we’re always here if you need us.”
I went to the refrigerator and took out three beers. I handed one to each of them and took one for myself, before answering them I took a slug out of my bottle.
“I’m good. I really am. I finally feel like I’m living. This has been my dream and now, I have nothing stopping me. Well, nothing but clients. I need clients to make this work.”
My brothers both hugged me in a group hug and Baxter said, “It will happen. You are talented and there is no way you won’t have your schedule bursting at the seams. You got this.”
Max agreed with him and together, them standing behind me I looked around the room and, smiled.
“This is it. This is what I wanted. Something of my own, something to bring me back to life. It’s perfect, picture perfect.”
My brothers left that night and I floated around adjusting small things and making sure I was set. I had, up until now, been taking photos for people at the mercy of the weather. I had done some weddings and family photos in homes, parks or the beach, but to have a studio now meant I could expand.
I wanted to do boudoir photo sessions. It was something I felt I needed to do. Empowering women and making them comfortable in their own skin was important to me. I had never felt comfortable in my own skin. Overweight as a teenager, starved myself on diet after diet to be thin. Had horrible things said to me as a teen and younger because of my weight and even now I struggled with my body image, but slowly, I was getting better.
One thing about a narcissist, they prey on your weakness. They learn easily what they are and they hit you hard. So the emotional damage of the past will take time to heal.
My business took off. I coerced a few friends, who stayed in my life despite my ex-husband trying to cut me off from the world, to do sessions with me and together we got the word out on the boudoir business. I also had done some boudoir sessions previously, but I did those in the client’s homes and I would rent a furnished studio from time to time, I knew real estate people, so they helped me out when they could. I didn’t have a business name other than my name, Roxy Saint. So now that I have the studio, I’m finally branding, Picture Perfect, as my business name.
The crazy thing about all of this is I never dreamed doing something I loved could make me feel so free. Finally, living my life, my dreams. This was the freedom I needed to be at peace with my life.
Shaking myself from my thoughts I floated back to the present. I’m just about to turn thirty, I’m at the top of my game. No man in my life, but happier than I ever imagined possible.
So Blaine Harrington, No! I don’t care if he hung the moon. I don’t need the complication of a man and I don’t need someone telling me how to run my life, again. Fuck. That. Batteries and my toys could suffice and in some cases, work better than anything else I’ve ever had.
Harsh? Yes. Truth? Yes. Do I care? Well, sometimes I wish I knew the kind of passion I’ve read about in the romance books I love to read at night, but that stuff isn’t real, right? I mean, I saw Vanessa and Trevor tonight and I’m so happy for her, but I remember the sadness and the destruction Trevor caused for her.
When she came to pick up her pictures and told me that he walked out on her, it didn’t surprise me, because I have no faith in the male population. But the destruction it caused her, made me stand firm. Seeing them today, though happy, smiling and in love made me wonder, waiver even. Up until the pompous ass placed his business card in my cleavage. I mean who does that?
“Blaine Harrington. You have met your match, sir. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you own half of New Jersey, I’m not going to be part of your property.”