Real Stories, Real Healing: Mental Health Awareness at Lake Calhoun, Spicer, MN

This session took place in a secluded area near Lake Calhoun in the New London-Spicer, Minnesota area. The wide-open field gave us the privacy we needed to dive into a very raw and emotional concept centered around mental health.

This session is part of an ongoing photo series on mental health awareness. In this project, I meet with each person individually to listen to their story, ask questions, and brainstorm a way to visually bring their story to life. Each person chooses three images that they feel drawn to—whether it’s because the photo makes them uncomfortable or because it represents something deeply personal. Those images become our inspiration for how we shape their session—from clothing, props, to mood, and emotion.

This session in particular was deeply moving. The model shared that she had lost her father to suicide at a young age. The loss has stayed with her in the form of PTSD. She brought a collection of memories—photos and personal belongings from when her father served—to incorporate into the shoot.

The location in rural New London-Spicer allowed us to fully lean into a vulnerable and powerful narrative. She wore a bra and underwear set to symbolize the rawness of body image struggles, and we decorated her body with fresh flowers, then covered them with Band-Aids—representing self-harm, and how damaging self-talk leaves hidden wounds. A tape measure and scale were used as symbols of how we often tie our worth to our body size, believing we must look a certain way to feel loved or accepted.

We then taped over her mouth with the word “Silence” written on it, which she later tore off in the photos—a visual metaphor for reclaiming her voice. A hand-painted banner reading “Fragile” repeated in a loop,  echoing the quiet strength behind her vulnerability.

Here is Amery’s story:

I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, severe anxiety, and PTSD when I was sixteen, after I attempted to take my own life. Before that, I had quietly struggled with self-harm, always hiding it in places no one could see.

Since then, I’ve turned to tattoos as a coping mechanism. It’s a pain I can control. Still, my self-esteem and body image have been constant battles. I can’t remember a time when negative, self-shaming thoughts weren’t running through my head. Even on the days I feel good about myself, it doesn’t last—depression always finds a way to interrupt.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had happy moments. But depression is more than sadness. It’s waking up tired despite sleeping for hours. It’s canceling plans just to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. It’s losing joy in the things you used to love. It’s overeating—or not eating at all. It’s struggling to make even the simplest decisions.

Anxiety isn’t just panic attacks—it’s people-pleasing, overthinking every conversation, reading too much into a text, being unable to say no. It’s apologizing when no apology is needed. And PTSD is more than being triggered by loud noises. It’s flashbacks, nightmares, poor memory, and self-destructive behaviors. It’s feeling fragile, broken, and overwhelmed by memories you wish you could forget.

Most people don’t understand what mental illness truly looks like. They don’t see the weight we carry daily. If you know someone who’s always tired, or constantly seeks reassurance, offer them kindness. Don’t question it—just support them. We don’t like feeling this way either.

I’m still trying. Therapy helps. Losing my dad to suicide in 2021, it set me back more than I expected. Most days are hard—really hard. But I’m here, I’m fighting, and I’m trying. If you’re struggling, please talk to someone. Don’t bottle it up. Your story matters. You matter. And it can get better.

This mental health awareness photo series, created in the serene and private landscapes near Lake Calhoun in New London-Spicer, Minnesota, is a powerful reminder that everyone carries a unique story. While each story is deeply personal, there is always a thread of shared humanity—we all struggle, we all feel, and we all matter. Your story is worth telling. 

Through the images I create and share, my goal is to challenge the stigma surrounding mental health. 

I hope this project inspires more open conversations about mental illness, encourages education and empathy, and reminds people to be more mindful of the words they use.

No matter what someone is going through, physically or mentally, we all deserve the same compassion and care. Most of all, I hope this series empowers others to choose vulnerability over silence, strength over shame. Together, we can make a difference—one story, one image, one act of understanding at a time.