My Inner Circle

My People are the Best People. Join my Inner Circle and I'll personally send you occasional notes about the incredible humans I photograph, reflections about connection, vulnerability and love, and other things that I'm thinking about.

Bonus: My Inner Circle is my sounding board for new and scary ideas, and the first to hear when I open up something new, or travel to your neck of the woods...

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Meera Graham Photography
Let's dare to do this sh*t our own way.

words & images

My blog features beautiful humans of every shape, size, race, gender-presentation, sexuality...and more. This is the place where I get to celebrate them and tell their stories.


Real Stuff.

See the world through my eyes, and the eyes of my people.


Posts in Grief
Old wounds in a fresh grief

My grief has emerged in many ways over the past two weeks. Spitting rage. Infinite sadness. Numbness. Laughter. Wonder. Insomnia. Exhaustion. Grief has thrown me to the ground like a rag doll, spun me like a top, and left me with a sense of disorientation even when I seem ok.

But the thing I never expected is the way that grief has reached down and scooped directly from my other open heart-wounds. Wounds from childhood. Wounds from early womanhood. Wounds more recent. Self-inflicted, externally inflicted. Every wound I've buried, ignored, failed to notice, failed to love...now all rising to meet the light, rising to meet ME.

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Grief.

I ask everyone in my life, and my community, and my work…to lean into being human, into vulnerability. In return, I have always promised you mine. That’s why I need to share with you that for the past week, I have been in the midst of grappling with bone-shattering grief.

I've never experienced grief quite like this, this endless hammering in my chest, the feverish sweats, the inability to sleep, the listlessness, the bottomless tears, the sudden sobbing, and desperately trying to drown out an alarm in my head that keeps screaming "DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING!"

I know that all of this is a sign that I am very, very lucky, a sign that at nearly 36 years of age, I'm only just having my first encounter with the Deepest Grief of the Soul. I don't feel very lucky.

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