WHO AM I?The woman behind the camera — and why I do this

I wasn't supposed to be a photographer.

For most of my life I was the grey mouse in the room. Quiet, unseen, the kind of woman who moved through the world without taking up too much space. Confidence wasn't something I had — it was something I watched other people carry, always wondering how they made it look so effortless.

When I moved to London from Hungary, I built a life from nothing. For almost eight years I ran a cleaning business — showing up every day, working hard, making something real from sheer determination. It taught me more about resilience than anything else ever has. But even then, even as I built something with my own hands, I still didn't fully believe in my own worth.

Photography was always there, quietly in the background. A hobby I loved for fifteen years but never thought could be mine professionally. I spent years photographing properties, sharpening my eye for light and detail. And in between, I photographed women — friends, family, strangers who trusted me with something vulnerable.

That's when everything shifted.

It wasn't the camera that changed things. It was the moment a woman saw herself in her images — really saw herself — and something unlocked. The quiet exhale. The "is that really me?" The way she stood a little differently afterwards.

I realised I wasn't just taking photographs. I was giving women something they hadn't known they were missing.

Why maternity

I don't have a single photograph of myself pregnant.

My son turns 18 this year. And there are days when I would give anything — anything — for one image of myself carrying him. One reminder of that woman, that chapter, that version of me before everything changed.

I know what it feels like to reach a milestone and realise the moment wasn't documented. Not because nobody cared — but because I never thought I was worth stopping for.

I photograph pregnant women so they never have to feel that absence. So that one day, when their child is grown, they have something to hold. A reminder of who they were. Proof that they were there, that they celebrated themselves, that they chose to be seen.

Why branding

I'm a female entrepreneur over 45. I know the fear of showing up visibly in business — the doubt before you press post, the voice that asks "does anyone really need to see my face today?"

That fear doesn't disappear when you become successful. Sometimes it gets louder.

When I started my own photography business I had to confront every insecurity I'd carried my whole life. The grey mouse who didn't think she deserved to be seen had to learn to show up — consistently, visibly, vulnerably.

I photograph female founders because I speak their language from the inside. Not from a textbook. Not from observation. From lived experience.

I know what it costs to keep hiding. And I know what changes when you finally stop.

Who I am today

I'm Edina. I'm a maternity and branding photographer based in Wapping, London, with a studio steps from the canal and St Katharine's Dock.

But more than that — I'm a Women's Confidence Creator. That's not a title I gave myself lightly. It's a movement built from every woman who walked into my studio not sure she deserved to be there, and walked out knowing she did.

I grew up not believing I was worth being seen.

Now I spend my days helping other women discover that they are.

If any part of this story sounds familiar — I'd love to hear from you.