Update – I did it! Scroll down to see a few images!
Was with my boyfriend for five years. He dumped me this summer. Said he was “moving back to Seattle to reset.” Translation: he wanted to feel mysterious in the rain and sleep with someone who owns hiking boots.
Fine. Go find yourself. I’m finding mine — in lace and good lighting.
Because I’ve decided to do something for me.
A boudoir shoot.
With a male photographer.
And yes, I’m posting a few shots on Instagram.
The Thought Crime
Let’s be honest — part of this is for him. Not in a sad, “take me back” way, but in the petty, cinematic way where he’s scrolling one night, pretending not to care, and then—boom. There I am. Looking hotter than the coffee he’s crying into.
The caption will be something vague, like “new era.” Or “self-love looks good on me.” Something that screams empowerment but quietly whispers regret this, you idiot.
I know it’s immature. I know it’s probably beneath me. But heartbreak makes your brain weird. It’s a cocktail of grief and ego and “look what you lost, loser.” And honestly? It’s kind of fun.
The Confession
Here’s the truth: I’m doing this because I need to feel powerful again. For months, I’ve felt invisible — like my reflection has been buffering since June. I want to see myself the way someone else used to.
And yes, I picked a male photographer on purpose. I want that tiny jolt of “oh my god, what am I doing?” I want to walk into that studio nervous and walk out feeling like I could step on his heart with heels and not feel a thing.
It’s not about being sexy for anyone else. It’s about reclaiming that version of me that used to take up space — the one who didn’t flinch at her own reflection.
Do I fully trust myself not to pick a picture that’s just slightly too spicy to post? No.
Do I care? Also no.
The Reflection
I think every woman who’s been dumped should do something that scares her a little. A haircut. A solo trip. A photoshoot. Something that makes you nervous and proud at the same time.
The power isn’t in the pictures; it’s in the act. The decision to do something for yourself and then make it public enough that your ex definitely sees it — and pretends he didn’t.
Because let’s face it: men move on fast. Women rebrand.
The Plan
So yes, I’m booking it. I’m picking the studio with the dramatic lighting and the faint smell of expensive candles. I’ll bring one playlist, one glass of wine, and a little bit of vengeance energy.
And when I post those photos — cropped tastefully, filtered softly, captioned carelessly — I’ll know exactly what I’m doing.
It’s not revenge. It’s closure with lipstick.
And maybe a tiny, harmless thought crime.
Update: I did it! I went with Sin Boudoir from Orlando after finding him on the Boudoir Rule recommended photographers list. We did the photos down here at the beach. I love them! I went with an 80’s film style look for the photos and they came out so perfect! I brought a couple different swimsuits and did some bold, artistic nudes. Wow is all I can say.
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