in real life
you are just like me. eye to eye. in real life. years of photographs walk into the room now three dimensional. we are all the same in real life. thousands of words scrawled across paper now have voices that float and faces that smile. for real. that’s you. hi you! i’ve known you my whole life and this is exactly as it should be.
i am. you are. we are. all together. it’s why our magnets were drawn to one another in the first place, it’s why we kept coming back for more words please, you speak to me. it’s why we keep coming back to certain images that reflect what i feel inside. you are stronger than you know. cherished. believe in yourself. no fear.
in real life we reflect our passions in mirrored lamps, peering closer and closer. all the while smiling. you are just like me and i don’t know why i ever questioned that. insecurity seems silly now. thank you for this gift. we speak of dreams to come, textures, fields, foods. we speak of how we got to where we are. our stories crisscross intertwining across lines strung with flowers, clothing, words.
this is comfort in my own skin. your inner demons are my own. as is your outward beauty. we are all the same. and i love what i see.
in real life we are faces in elevators meeting for the first time with hugs upon recognition. you know me through my words. you know me. i don’t know what i was so worried about. being seen is being loved.
we are fun shoes on carpeted floors and elevators to private suites. we are room service and city views and truths told and truths shared. we are all the same.
we are five women reflected in mirrors on our way out the door to more hearts open wide. we are the realization of all our dreams and wishes. intentions set. being seen through someone else’s eyes helps me to see myself. i am this person. i am this body floating in water. this woman in a window. i am this self portrait, and i’m beginning to believe it. i am this meredith winn. i am this camera shy momma. yes i am. i wonder how you could have seen me before i saw myself but it doesn’t matter anymore. now i see and know and feel.
in the moment, this conversation with feet on hardwood floors, photography hung around us. a paintbrush in your hand. i am these words you are painting on my body. no introductions but simply “i know you!” from my favorite author hugs and smiles and feeling at home in appreciation and reciprocation in honor and awe.
i am me when i am with you. over the years we grew this relationship without even knowing it. we walk together and find ourselves in hallways jumping and laughing in bathroom mirrors. we are private car conversations. we are gorgeous hanging chandeliers. we are kids inside, all of us. and it is so very good.
beauty is curled beneath blankets on couches. drinking water from wine glasses. darkened city skylines through open curtains. open hearts. beauty is honesty revealed. true to life. we are all the same. our stories intertwine. we are laughing laughing fall apart. we are all this and more to come.
this is not me recreating who i am. this is me being who i’ve been all along … and just now finally realizing it.
this is like nothing i’ve ever experienced before.
in real life.