When I began creating my self-portrait, I found myself thinking about the obvious things—like my curly hair, my big eyes—the features that others often notice first. But I wanted to go beyond that. I wasn’t interested in capturing just the surface of who I am. I wanted to express something more personal, more vulnerable: the emotions I carry, the quiet thoughts that live beneath what people see.

I was 18 years old when I made this collection, and in many ways, I’m still finding my way. I’m somewhere between who I was and who I’m becoming. There are still so many moments ahead that will shape me, soften me, challenge me. Growth, I’ve come to learn, is not loud—it’s slow and often silent. It happens in the spaces between joy and grief, in letting go and holding on, in the tender process of learning who I truly am.

There are parts of me that still don’t fit quite right—uncertain pieces still searching for their place. That’s why I chose the puzzle. It speaks to how I feel: not broken, not unfinished, but becoming. Some pieces are missing, and others are starting to fall into place—with time, with experience, with love and hurt and healing.

I’m still shedding versions of myself that no longer feel true. Still carrying quiet storms and resilient stories. Still learning how to loosen my grip on certain memories while holding others close. Progress isn’t always visible—but it’s there, in every step, every small shift.

My puzzle isn’t complete. But in that, there’s beauty. Because becoming is its own kind of art—soft, uncertain, deeply human.