I have one photo. In it, I'm in a light dress, laughing, my hair is disheveled, and behind me is summer, nature and some perfect moment.
And almost no one knows that 10 minutes before that, I was crying. And really hard.
It was a hard day. I snapped at a friend, missed an important call, and what I had planned didn't work out for me. And then — a flash.

They just took a picture of me by accident to cheer me up. I wasn't posing, I wasn't going to look happy. But the frame is like something out of a movie.

I often think about how much is actually hidden behind the photo. How much we don't see when we look at other people's accounts.
There may be pain, resentment, despair.
Or maybe — instant delight, frozen on the face.

When I look at this photo now, I don’t see myself as beautiful. I see the moment of acceptance. The second where I let go of control.
And perhaps this is the power of the photo – not in the composition, not in the filters. But in the fact that it captures the real you. Not ideal, not planned.

I saved this photo as a reminder that behind every frame, there is always a story. Sometimes heavy, sometimes light. But always – real.