Rebecca Zamora
Stories (4/0)
Tips to rock your next family photoshoot!
Today’s the day! You’ve spent time planning matching outfits for your whole family, you’ve spent countless hours on Pinterest and Instagram trying find the exact vibe you want to bring to your own session, and you’ve likely shelled out a pretty penny for a great photographer to capture your family in their best light! You want everything to go smoothly and you’re praying to whatever being or universal entity you believe in that your little one will just smile at the camera, just this once, and you'll never ask again!
By Rebecca Zamora3 years ago in Photography
The Voyager and the Demi god
In 2016 I was at work when a manager pulled me aside to ask if I was doing alright. I was reluctant to admit how badly my mental health was suffering, and how hard it had become to maintain the facade that I was operating at 100% all of the time. But she could tell, and so could my coworkers. At the time I was living and working in Central Florida, in a place where people come from all over the world to visit. I was truly living everyone else’s dream, and people I knew who didn’t work with me never missed an opportunity to tell me so, meanwhile behind the scenes, my own life felt like a nightmare. This brought on an immense sense of guilt and shame, as though because of my situation, I wasn’t allowed to feel depressed, or because of the nature of my job, I shouldn’t experience anxiety. By the end of our conversation, I was being driven by two large police officers to a mental health facility nearby for a mandatory 5 day observation where I took part in group and individual therapy, in a safe and understanding environment.
By Rebecca Zamora3 years ago in Petlife
The Nanny
“Oh you have GOT to be kidding me!” Liv groaned as she untangled herself from the bed sheets that had charmingly woven themselves around her like a Grecian toga as she slept. It was past 7 am, she somehow managed to sleep through three alarms, though they had been blaring obnoxiously a mere five inches from her head. Launching herself across her bedroom, she began tearing through her rickety dresser in search of anything that could even slightly resemble a work appropriate outfit. Pulling on a pair of black leggings, a button up shirt and an oversized cardigan, she sprinted to the bathroom to run a toothbrush over her teeth and a brush through her wild hair.
By Rebecca Zamora3 years ago in Journal
