She Chose the Lens Over Labels: How a Divorce Led Milla from Corporate Numbers to Creative Freedom

Question 1

Wholenessly:

Let’s start at the turning point. What was happening in your life emotionally when you went through your divorce so young?

Answer

At that time, everything felt like it was unraveling—and in a way, it was. Emotionally, I was exhausted. I had built a version of my life based on who I thought I was supposed to be: the good girl, the dependable partner, the one who didn’t take up too much space.

But deep down, I had abandoned parts of myself to fit into that life. So when the marriage ended, yes, it was heartbreaking—but it was also a strange kind of relief. I didn’t fully know who I was yet, but I had this quiet knowing that I couldn’t keep living from someone else’s script. It cracked me open.

Question 2

Wholenessly:

Many people collapse during heartbreak—you created. What pulled you toward photography during that period?

Answer

Photography saved me, honestly. It gave me a reason to look at the world differently when mine felt like it had fallen apart. There was something healing about looking through the lens—about capturing beauty, emotion, truth. I wasn’t trying to make perfect pictures; I was trying to feel something again. It gave me structure, focus, and this wild creative freedom I hadn’t felt in years. It was a way to rewrite my identity without needing words.

Question 3

Wholenessly:

If you could send a message to the version of yourself who was just leaving that marriage, what would you say?

Answer

I’d tell her: Your life is yours. You don’t have to make decisions to fit in or to make other people comfortable. You don’t have to shrink, accommodate, or perform to be worthy of love or belonging. You’ve done that long enough—and it cost you your voice.
Now is the time to claim it.

You’re allowed to have needs. You’re allowed to meet them without apology. No one else is coming to rescue you—and that’s not a tragedy, it’s an invitation. You get to rescue yourself. You get to create a life that actually reflects who you are, not just who you thought you had to be.

And even though it feels scary to walk away from the known, trust me: everything you’re searching for starts the moment you stop abandoning yourself.

This is not the end. It’s the beginning of a life where you are finally allowed to take up space. Where your truth is sacred. Where you get to be the author of your story.
And you’re going to be so proud of who you become.

Question 4

Wholenessly:

Did photography feel like therapy at the time, or did it become that later on?

Answer

At first, it just felt like breath. Like oxygen. I didn’t name it “therapy”—I just knew that I needed it. Only later did I realize it was helping me process everything I hadn’t been able to say out loud. Over time, it became my way of translating emotions and reclaiming parts of myself that I had shut down. Eventually, it became more than therapy—it became my way of helping others be seen too. That’s the full-circle magic of it. What started as healing for me became a gift I could offer the world.

Question 5

Wholenessly:

What kind of images did you find yourself drawn to in the beginning, and what do you think that says about what you were healing?

Answer

Initially, I tried a variety of approaches—different styles, locations, and lighting—but I kept coming back to people. That’s where the energy was for me. I was fascinated by faces, by emotion, by what happens in those unscripted moments.

But I made a classic mistake at first—I over-planned. I tried to pose people to make them look “their best,” like it was a catalog shoot. One of my mentors said to me, “They’re not models. Let them breathe. Let them be real.” That hit me.

At the time, I think I was still trying to control the image—maybe because I couldn’t control other things in my life. I even used NLP tricks to get emotional reactions, sometimes pushing people too far just to get a raw moment. I thought tears meant truth. But it was performative in its own way.

Eventually, I stopped overthinking. I softened. I started leading with loving presence instead of performance. A few deep breaths. A real connection. That’s all it takes. And honestly, I think that shift mirrored what I was healing in myself: the need to prove something, to get it “right,” to earn love through effort. Now I try to hold space. That’s more than enough.

Question 6

Wholenessly:

Was there a particular photo or moment that made you realize, “This isn’t just a hobby. This is a calling”?

Answer

I’ve actually been around cameras since I was a kid—my dad was a hobby photographer, so cameras were always lying around. I played with them, broke a few, and usually had some kind of pocket camera with me growing up. So the love for it was always there… but it wasn’t until I hit a low point that I realized it was more than a hobby.

I had agreed to photograph an event using a borrowed camera, because at that point, I didn’t even own my own. When I looked at the images afterward, my heart sank. They were bad. Like really bad. I sat down and cried. I didn’t want to deliver the photos. I felt like I had let them down, like I had overpromised and completely underdelivered. It felt like betrayal, even though I was trying my best.

But that moment changed everything—because instead of giving up, I decided to commit. I bought my first professional camera right after that. I realized that if this mattered that much to me, enough to make me cry over imperfect photos, then it wasn’t just a side thing. I cared deeply. And that kind of care is what calls you forward. That’s when it became a calling.

Question 7

Wholenessly:

You started as an accountant—such a structured, rule-based role. How did that identity shape your creative path?

Answer

It gave me discipline, definitely. It taught me how to build systems, solve problems, and think logically—all of which turned out to be incredibly helpful when I started running a creative business. As much as we romanticize the creative process, it actually needs structure to thrive. And accounting gave me that foundation.

Looking back, it makes sense. As a kid, I loved puzzles and building with Legos. I could spend hours creating little worlds out of blocks, figuring out how things fit together. In many ways, accounting was just the adult version of that—order, logic, structure. But what I didn’t realize at first was how much I had disconnected from my body, my emotion, my intuition.

Eventually, I had to relearn how to feel. How to trust a moment, rather than analyze it. That’s what creativity brought me: freedom, softness, messiness. It pushed me to color outside the lines I had lived in for so long.

And honestly, I still don’t know if I’m left-brained or right-brained. I live somewhere in between. Creativity often does come from limitation, from working within a box and then daring to reshape it. So in a strange way, accounting didn’t kill my creativity—it quietly prepared me for it.

Question 8

Wholenessly:

What were the first signs that you were ready to shift from corporate to creative life? Was it a slow drift or a bold leap?

Answer

It was definitely a slow drift. It took me about four years to admit to myself that I wanted something different. I kept trying to make it work, telling myself I could be creative on the side, that maybe fulfillment wasn’t that important. But deep down, I knew I was outgrowing that version of myself.

And then, life stepped in. The company I worked for got sold, and the new owner decided to shut down our branch. Just like that, my corporate career was over. And strangely, I didn’t panic. I felt this deep knowing—I’m not going back. It was as if the universe had been whispering for years and finally just said, “Go. Fly already.”

That moment gave me the permission I hadn’t been brave enough to claim on my own. It was the push I needed to finally step into the creative life that had been calling me all along.

Question 9

Wholenessly:

How did your corporate skills help you build your own brand and later support others?

Answer

My corporate background gave me the backbone to actually run a creative business, not just dream about one. I understood things like workflows, project management, timelines, and finances. I knew how to organize chaos, meet deadlines, and deliver consistently, and that gave me a huge advantage when I stepped into entrepreneurship.

But it wasn’t just about execution—it was about thinking strategically. I could see the bigger picture, map out the steps, and build systems to support the vision. That structure helped me build a brand that was not only beautiful but also sustainable.

And now, when I work with clients, I bring both sides to the table. I’m not just giving them creative direction—I’m helping them make decisions that actually move their business forward. Branding isn’t just about how things look. It’s about clarity, consistency, and alignment. My corporate skills help me anchor the creative process in real-world strategy, so their brand doesn’t just feel good, it works.

Question 10

Wholenessly:

Now you help others with their branding—how does your own journey shape the way you guide clients?

Answer

My journey taught me that branding isn’t just about colors and fonts—it’s about becoming. It’s about remembering who you are underneath all the conditioning and finding the courage to be seen as that version of yourself.

I know what it’s like to feel invisible. To struggle with the words. To wonder if your story is “too much” or “not enough.” I’ve been through the fear of visibility, the doubt, the overthinking—and that’s exactly why I’m able to hold space for others who are going through it now.

When I guide clients, I don’t just give them a strategy. I help them reconnect with their story, their voice, and their power—on a human level. I bring structure, but I also bring softness. We don’t rush clarity. Identity work takes time, and it deserves compassion. Because the goal isn’t to create a brand that just looks good—it’s to build one that feels true, aligned, and alive.

That’s when your brand starts to work for you, not just as a marketing tool, but as an extension of who you are becoming.

Question 11

Wholenessly:

In your eyes, what makes a personal brand feel soulful and real, rather than just curated?

Answer

When it reflects who someone really is, not just who they think they’re supposed to be online. A soulful brand has edges, contradictions, and humanness. It’s not afraid to show the journey, not just the highlight reel. You can feel when someone has done the inner work because their presence doesn’t feel like a performance—it feels like a conversation.

Question 12

Wholenessly:

How do you help clients transform their pain or past into something beautiful or marketable?

Answer

We start by honoring the pain, not bypassing it or trying to package it too quickly. I create a space where they can look at their story with fresh eyes, not as something to hide, but as something sacred. Every scar, every turning point, holds meaning—and that’s where we begin.
Then we look for the golden thread. The insight, the strength, the truth that came from those experiences. What did they learn? What do they now know in their bones that others might still be searching for? That’s where the real brand power lives—not in perfection, but in integration.
From there, we shape a brand that’s rooted in truth and experience. A brand that feels like home, to them and to the people they’re meant to serve. A brand that feels true. That’s when it becomes not just marketable, but magnetic.

Question 13

Wholenessly:

What do you believe photography captures that words never could?

Answer

Energy. Essence. That tiny flicker in someone’s eyes when they finally let go. Words explain, but photography reveals. It’s like a portal into the unspoken. A good photo doesn’t just show what someone looks like—it shows who they are when they’re not performing, when they feel safe enough to be real.

Photography isn’t only about the final image—it’s about the experience of being witnessed and allowing yourself to be seen. It’s the breath before the shutter clicks. The softening. The moment when someone feels accepted exactly as they are.
That’s what gets lost when people turn to AI-generated portraits. In trying to perfect or control the image, they unintentionally hide.

And in doing so, they miss the most healing part—the human connection. The process of being fully visible in front of a real lens, held by a real presence. No algorithm can replace that. Because the magic isn’t just in what’s captured—it’s in what’s felt.

Question 14

Wholenessly:

What would you tell women who are reinventing themselves after a breakup, loss, or career change?

Answer

I’d say: You’re not starting over. You’re starting deeper. Every version of you that came before is part of this one, and nothing was wasted. Reinvention isn’t about becoming someone new; it’s about remembering who you were before the world told you to be small. Trust your timing. Trust your voice. And don’t be afraid to take up space in the process.

Question 15

Wholenessly:

If you had to title this chapter of your life, what would you call it?

Answer

In My Visibility Era.
After years of hiding, performing, shape-shifting to fit what I thought people wanted, I’ve stopped dimming. This chapter is about being fully seen, not just online, but in my relationships, in my work, in the way I speak, lead, and take up space.

It’s not about being loud for the sake of it—it’s about being true. Letting all parts of me come forward, especially the ones I used to keep quiet. And helping others do the same.

This is the era where I no longer ask for permission. I show up with softness, with strength, and with a camera in hand.

WHOLENESSLY

She Chose the Lens Over Labels: How a Divorce Led Milla from Corporate Numbers to Creative Freedom

Milla Kuhto-Bryan

Notes on Becoming

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