Shell Casing

I lived in London for four years. I grew up in a small village wrapped in cotton wool and thought the world was a good and decent place.

In July 2014 two men raped me, as soon as it happened I called my boyfriend (at the time) he didn’t answer, so he texted me saying was it important? I told him what happened he never called me back just wrote a text back saying, “What did you do to make that happen”. I had just found out the week before he had cheated on me. To him I was worthless; to the men that assaulted me I was worthless. My self-esteem was low, and for one year I didn’t tell anyone else. He accused me of lying saying I cheated on him; he called me a whore regularly, choked me and spat on me, knocked me unconscious and put holes in the walls of my flat – but I felt like I deserved all this so I always went back to him. I asked him to imagine what it is like to violated in such a way, he said he couldn’t because he would never let someone do that to him – like I did let them, as if I wanted it. He cheated on me again and in the end picked her over me. I guess I finally found some strength 18 months later to say that I was a human being and deserved to be treated with respect, but I knew some of that respect had to come from me if I wanted others to see me as someone to respect, I had to take steps forward and believe in myself. I started going on day trips and taking photographs sitting in places that I had never been before, writing down all my feelings, everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. It became cathartic sitting on a beach and seeing people I didn’t know and having them smile, I realised not everyone was someone to be scared of, not everyone would look at you as worthless and unworthy. I needed to learn confidence and depend on myself. This was a journey I had to do on my own.

‘Shell Casing’ is about this loss, about intimacy of the body. My self-esteem was the lowest it had ever been. I felt worthless. I started to think I deserved what happened.

The rocks on the sea side remind me of a new birth, there is lots of bumps and hidden crevices, that had a story, a past, it reminded me that just because I had been in pain, there is always a new start, a new beginning, the story doesn’t have to be forgotten but it doesn’t have to define you either.

The self-portraits are about me learning to love myself again. The shot of the male is one of my best friends and as I grew confidence I wanted to look at the male body, thinking of how it is just as vulnerable as a female body, and that we need to learn to respect both.

All shot on 5x4