There’s something slightly unhinged about meeting your friends at the beach before most people have hit snooze for the second time, knowing you’re about to take all your clothes off with a camera involved. It felt secretive. Like we were getting away with something. Three moms, one very calm photographer, and a stretch of coast near Melbourne Beach that hadn’t woken up yet.

We hired Michael Jones from Sin Boudoir after a lot of back-and-forth texts that mostly sounded like, Are we really doing this? followed by, Okay but if we don’t, we’ll regret it. Michael specializes in a more erotic style, which we all knew going in, and after some honest conversations (and maybe one nervous laugh too many), all three of us decided to go fully nude. No dipping a toe in. Just… go.

The whole thing was relaxed and surprisingly efficient. About 45 minutes each. I went first, then Holly, then Lilly Anna. Same beach, totally different energy every time.

—

Alexandra

I volunteered to go first because if I didn’t, I knew I’d spend the entire morning pacing and overthinking everyone else’s session instead of my own. Rip the Band-Aid off, right?

I remember taking my clothes off and thinking, Well. This is happening. Not in a dramatic way. More like when you step into cold water and your body just accepts its fate. Michael was immediately professional and grounding, which mattered more than I expected. Directions were simple. Adjust this. Shift your weight. Pause. Breathe. Nothing felt rushed or weird.

What surprised me most was how quickly my brain stopped spiraling. There was no mental highlight reel of insecurities playing in my head. I wasn’t cataloging everything I don’t like about my body. I was just… there. Standing. Moving. Existing in a body that has done a lot over the years. Pregnancy. Sleep deprivation. Life.

At one point, I laughed because a strand of hair wouldn’t cooperate, and Michael just shrugged and said something like, “That’s the good stuff.” And weirdly, he was right. Not polished. Not posed within an inch of its life. Just real.

By the time my session ended, I didn’t feel transformed or reborn or any of the dramatic things people sometimes say. I felt steady. Like I’d done something a little bold and lived to tell the story. I put my clothes back on slowly, not rushing, which felt new.

—

Holly

Holly and sand are not friends. This is established fact. She will tolerate it if necessary, but she will not enjoy it. So when she spotted a random beach chair sitting off to the side, you could almost see the relief wash over her. Like she’d discovered an oasis.

Her session had a completely different vibe. Where mine felt quiet and inward, Holly’s was… practical, with a side of sarcasm. She perched herself on that chair like she’d claimed it years ago. No hesitation. No tiptoeing around. Just, This works. Let’s do this.

She kept cracking jokes between shots, mostly at her own expense, but there was confidence under it. The kind that doesn’t announce itself. She knew what she wanted to avoid (sand, always sand) and leaned fully into what made her comfortable. Watching from a distance, it was clear how much that mattered. Her shoulders relaxed. Her posture softened.

At one point she said, “I actually forgot I was naked for a second,” which might be the highest compliment you can give a boudoir photographer. Michael worked with her energy instead of trying to mold it into something else. Nothing felt forced. It felt like collaboration.

When she finished, she stood up, brushed off exactly zero grains of sand thanks to her chair victory, and said, “I could eat breakfast now.” Which felt very on-brand.

—

Lilly Anna

Lily Anna doesn’t want to share any of her boudoir photos, and that’s ok.

Lilly Anna went last, and there’s something about being last that carries its own weight. You’ve watched everyone else go through it. You’ve heard the laughter, the quiet moments, the little reassurances whispered afterward. There’s no mystery left, just anticipation.

Her session felt softer somehow. Not shy—just thoughtful. She took her time. Between poses, she’d pause, adjust, consider. Like she was checking in with herself instead of rushing to the next thing. It was calm without being sleepy. Intentional without being stiff.

There was a moment where she stood still for longer than expected, and no one interrupted it. Michael didn’t rush her. We didn’t distract her. It felt important to let that silence exist. She later said it was the first time in a long time she’d stood quietly without trying to fix or improve anything.

Her expressions shifted subtly throughout the shoot, and it was fascinating to watch how much emotion can live in small changes. A tilt of the head. A softened jaw. The kind of details you don’t notice in mirrors because you’re usually too busy judging yourself.

When she was done, she wrapped herself in a towel and smiled in that satisfied, slightly tired way people do after doing something that required real presence.

—

We packed up and left before the beach filled in, three very different experiences tied together by one shared morning. No big speeches. No group epiphanies. Just us, heading back to our cars, a little quieter than usual, already replaying moments in our heads and probably wondering when we’d be brave enough to do something like that again.