A week ago, I was catching up with a high-school girlfriend and said, half-laughing, “My face used to be perfect.”
She started to say, “Well…”—and before she could finish, I stopped her.
Because no, this wasn’t about beauty or vanity.
My face was perfect… because it was my face.
Since my freak bike accident, I’ve been learning what it means to love something that’s changed. I have facial road rash, four stitches that didn’t dissolve properly and left a small indentation on my chin, a tender scar by my nose, and new wrinkles that catch the light differently now.
I didn’t realize how perfect my face was before—the way it simply was me.
I have scars elsewhere on my body, and I wear them easily; they tell stories of adventures and a life well lived. But the face… that’s Different. That’s how the world recognizes us. That’s how we recognize ourselves.
As a photographer, I’ve seen this in so many of my clients.
A woman once asked me to Photoshop a tiny childhood scar—one only she could see.
Another told me about the indentation on her cheek from a childhood baseball injury. When she mentioned it to a friend, her friend said, “I love that dimple—it’s so you.”
Isn’t that something? The very thing we want to hide is what others find endearing.
So maybe the lesson here—one I’m still learning—is this:
Our faces tell our stories.
They hold the evidence of laughter, grief, resilience, and love.
And they are perfect, not in spite of what they’ve endured, but because of it.
My face is still perfect. It’s just… evolving.
So I’ll stay out of the sun, keep applying the magic lotions that promise healing, and practice radical acceptance every single day. It’s not easy—but I know it’s my path to peace.
If this message speaks to you—if you’ve ever hesitated to step in front of a camera because of a scar, indentation, or imperfection—please know this: you are already perfect.
And when you’re ready, I’d love to help you see it.
📸 There’s just one spot left for my next Headshot Party, designed to capture you as you are—authentic, radiant, and enough.
With warmth and gratitude, Kim