For three hours, we moved.

Valerie guided us through a sensual, powerful blend of yoga and dance. Katie wove mythology and goddess stories throughout the experience, inviting us to remember our own power. Then, one by one, Jin Sol gave each of us four minutes in front of the camera while a room full of women witnessed us with complete presence.

These images could be interpreted as sexy. But what I was actually expressing was grief.

The music, the pink light, the movement, the safety of the women around me... eventually the camera disappeared, the outside world disappeared, and I simply moved what was alive inside of me.

I usually hate having my picture taken. But I love being photographed candidly or when someone captures me in motion instead of a pose. It feels less like being seen from the outside and more like having something true reflected back to me.

And perhaps the most meaningful part wasn't being photographed at all.

It was witnessing the other women.

Their courage.
Their tenderness.
Their rage.
Their joy.
Their authenticity.

We spend so much energy believing our bodies need to be different. Yet as I watched each woman step into the center, I kept thinking the same thing over and over:

There isn't a woman I've met whose body isn't gorgeous and miraculous.