And for the first time, Anthea believed it. She hadn’t found herself. She’d simply stopped hiding from who she’d always been.
The collective’s final message to her was just four words: “You were never lost.” ifeelmyself anthea
By the end of the month, Anthea had quit her job, rented a tiny studio with paint-stained floors, and started a series of portraits called Ifeelmyself . They were not flattering or polished. They were honest—double chins, laughter lines, hands reaching for something invisible. And for the first time, Anthea believed it