I’m Zoey — a storyteller carved out of survival and soft edges, someone who learned to turn wounds into words and chaos into something that looks like hope.
Unjust Reality isn’t just a website to me. It’s the place I put the things the world tried to silence — the truths people are uncomfortable hearing, the beauty I find in broken places, and the stories I never want anyone else to feel alone in again. My photography, my writing, and my advocacy all come from the same place: a life spent navigating the margins, and a commitment to lifting up the people the world refuses to see.
I’ve lived through trauma, systemic failures, homelessness, violence, and the weight of being a trans woman in a world that too often punishes authenticity. I’ve survived psychiatric incarceration, involuntary holds, and the kind of institutional misunderstanding that treats pain like a threat instead of a wound. But I’ve also survived because of community — the kind built in mutual aid kitchens, crisis centers, late-night conversations, and the quiet promise that “we keep us safe.”
I know what it feels like to be misjudged, mislabeled, and misunderstood — by people, by systems, by the very places meant to help. Those experiences don’t define me, but they inform my work. They’re why I write with honesty, photograph with intention, and advocate with persistence. They remind me that every story deserves compassion, and every person deserves to be seen beyond their crisis.
I write because it helps me breathe.
I photograph because it keeps me grounded.
I advocate because no one should have to survive alone.
If Unjust Reality gives even one person a sense of understanding, comfort, validation, or empowerment — then every scar it took to get here was worth it.
Unjust Reality 