From Rock Bottom to the Spotlight
My First Commercial
Four months before this moment, I was at one of the darkest points in my life — battling depression, on the edge, ready to give up.
I didn’t know who I was becoming, and for the first time, I doubted if I even belonged anywhere.
But three months later, my life flipped 360°.
I found myself under bright studio lights, being filmed for my very first commercial — an experience that not only changed how I saw myself but also planted seeds that still grow in my work and in how I connect with people today.
I’m not sharing this story to brag — but because it’s part of my journey as a creative.
This experience became part of my imprint, part of my brand story, and part of the way I show up for others now.
Here’s the story.
The Audition: Taking a Shot in the Dark
In 2022, I was six months into living in the city of Houston. Shy. Quiet. Still trying to figure out who I was — as a creative and as a person.
I’d just started my photography journey and was attending Houston Community College, studying Communications, Art, and Theater.
My dream back then was to direct films that touched people’s hearts.
Then one day, an email landed in my inbox inviting students to audition for HCC’s spring semester commercial.
I didn’t feel ready. I doubted anyone would pick me. But something inside me whispered: Why not?
So after work one evening, still in my work clothes, I sat outside with nothing but my phone and recorded a 30-second audition.
I talked about what I was studying, my dream of becoming a director, and why I wanted to be part of the commercial.
I sent it. And waited.
Days passed. Then weeks. I started to feel foolish for even trying.
Until one evening at dinner with my parents, I got the call:
"Congratulations — you’ve been selected!"
I was stunned. Excited. Still scared — but now, I had to show up.
Shoot Day: Walking Into My Element
The morning of the shoot, my nerves came rushing back.
Driving to the studio, I felt it with every mile. I parked outside the door, took one deep breath, said a quiet prayer, and stepped inside.
And as soon as I walked in… something shifted.
I was greeted warmly by a makeup artist and stylist, who made me feel like I belonged there. I watched the other candidates go before me and quietly soaked in everything — the lights, the cameras, the quiet chatter.
The lead director even sat beside me for a while. We talked about my journey, my dreams, and how I was just beginning to pull myself out of one of the darkest seasons of my life.
When it was my turn, I requested some 70s soul music. The room instantly lifted — people started smiling and vibing along.
The photos. The video. The energy.
It was surreal — and for the first time in a long time, I thought to myself:
"I belong here."
The Energy You Bring Stays Behind
What surprised me most wasn’t just seeing myself on camera — it was how the energy in the room made everything feel possible.
It was intimate, fun, and engaging.
Even though we’d just met, everyone in that room rooted for each other. That left a deep imprint on me — as a creative and as a newly found photographer.
That day shaped the kind of experiences I wanted to create for others in my own shoots: moments that feel unforgettable, where connection comes first and lives on long after the photos are taken.
I learned that the smallest decisions — a kind word, the right song, a little patience — can have the biggest impact.
And the people you meet — whether on set or out in the world — can change not only your results but also your emotions, your confidence, and your vision.
That day reminded me that creating isn’t just about lights or cameras or gear.
It’s about connection.
It’s about making people feel seen and celebrated — so they carry that feeling with them long after.
That’s what I try to bring to every shoot now.
Because you never know how much your energy might mean to someone else.
Closing Thought:
This experience is now part of my story — part of my creative imprint, part of my brand, and part of the way I serve others through photography.
It taught me to show up even when I’m scared, to create spaces where people feel alive, and to honor the connections we make along the way.
If you’re reading this and you’re in a dark place — wondering if you belong — this is your reminder:
Show up anyway.
Because you never know when your life is about to flip 360°.