Lene Wichmann, 38, was bullied as a student because she stutters. Today she shows women how valuable they are through self-love photo shoots.
“The bow leg can’t speak” – I will never forget this sentence from a classmate. It was in physics class. He was sitting in the row in front of me and had turned to me. I can clearly remember his contemptuous grin and his voice. A voice that left no doubt that he enjoyed what he was doing. This must have been around eighth grade. I have bowlegs and I stutter.
Self-love photographer Lene Wichmann
“Be allowed to be exactly who you are”
My escape into silence
Stuttering became a problem in high school at the latest – when classmates’ taunts became nastier, grades became more important and the stuttering became worse. My strategy for surviving class was to stay silent and pretend I wasn’t there. I didn’t get in touch or respond to the teachers’ questions. Instead, I stared at my paper and hoped no one spoke to me. It was especially depressing when I knew the answer. I preferred to stay silent and get a five for participating, because as long as I didn’t speak, no one could make fun of me. What I wouldn’t have given to be invisible.
I finished school early
It feels like my school days are under a veil of fog. I only have clear memories from the moment I decided in the tenth grade to drop out and not take a high school diploma. It was a liberation. I felt like I had the reins in my own hands. For the first time, I was proud of myself – proud of being brave enough to make this decision. I also thought it was pretty cool to leave home at 16 to train as a photo designer. That gave me confidence.
My goal: to become a photographer
I don’t remember exactly how I came up with this because I had never held a camera in my hand. But the result of my career test at the Career Information Center (BIZ) had confirmed my choice: Photographer came first. For the summer before my tenth and final year of school, I organized an internship with a photographer. I had to call him for that – horror for me. I can still remember the phone call very clearly: my heart was racing, my hands were shaking, I was tense and could hardly get a word out. But I really wanted it, so I pushed through and was finally rewarded for my courage: I got the internship and started my training a year later.
A new chapter begins
My training as a photo designer began a completely new chapter for me. I finally felt like I belonged, even though my stammer kept presenting me with challenges: ordering croissants from the bakery, reading to the class in turn, making phone calls, getting to know people, asking for directions, dating. I avoided most of it if possible: let others order for me in the restaurant, sneaked into the toilet just before it was my turn to read aloud, and withdrew so as not to have to meet new people and introduce myself.
The worst: The moment when someone notices
The worst moment was always when the other person would notice “it”. That was what I was most afraid of. How would he or she react? Smiling in a particularly friendly manner, nodding understandingly, furrowing my forehead, laughing awkwardly, asking if I’ve forgotten my name, simply hanging up on the phone, asking in shock whether someone can help me, taking the word out of my mouth or confusing me leave it alone – I’ve experienced it all. And that was often much worse than the stuttering itself.
But beneath the layers of shame, fear and doubt, I always maintained my fighting spirit. When I was 12 or 13, I asked my mother whether it would continue like this forever, with the same thing happening every day for the rest of my life – getting up early, going to school or work, eating, sleeping and most of all : let others tell me what to do. My mother replied: “Yes, that is true. Unless you do something to make it different.” That’s when I decided I wanted to do it differently. I didn’t yet know how, but this idea would motivate me – despite, or perhaps because of, my stammer.
Karo becomes Lene
After my training, I was ready to conquer the world. Only no one was waiting for me out there. I was shy and stuttered. Interviews were horrible and getting a job in the photography industry was hopeless. So I turned my back on photography, did internships, a degree and further training until I found my way back to photography through a friend’s wedding.
In 2016 I became self-employed as a wedding photographer. I had already changed my first name – Karo had become Lene. I could pronounce that better. I was looking forward to meeting new people without stammering at them first. And I stopped worrying about having to introduce myself.
Salsa, breathwork, cuddle evenings
My great passion at that time was dancing salsa. I was able to forget everything. And not only that: I met people who opened up a new world to me. After a dance my dance partner asked me: “Are you a spiritual person?” and it didn’t take long until I experienced my first tantra evening. A year later, at a Tantra evening in Thailand, the thought occurred to me: Could I perhaps combine photography and Tantra?
On my own self-love journey, I discovered breathwork sessions, mantra singing, cuddle evenings, women’s circles and cocoa ceremonies. It was always about connecting – with myself and others. To show yourself honestly, with all the feelings that are there and to be allowed to experience them, to be accepted. I finally dared to claim space for myself and allow myself to stutter more and more.
Self-love and photography intertwine
I began to incorporate my experiences from body work into my work as a photographer and accompany couples with the camera during their most intimate moments. I realized that I was doing something that I had always wanted: I was giving people space to be who they are. Fascinated by this, I said goodbye to wedding photography and dedicated myself to intimate couple shoots and developed self-love shoots for women.
Living between shame and pride
Even today, there are moments when I am ashamed of my stutter, for example when dating. It just doesn’t sound good and doesn’t look good either. If I could choose, I would like to get rid of it. But I practice letting people notice and staying above the reaction. Sometimes I say directly: “I stutter, sometimes it takes a while”.
I’m proud that I went my own way. With every step, my confidence in myself grew. I made decisions that made me feel brave and confident. Today I am happy with who and how I am. I like my life. Because the more meaningful what I do feels, the less important the stuttering becomes.
The author: Lene Wichmann combines body work, feel-good rituals and photographic art in her “self-love shoots”. Women come to her in life crises and moments of change: the photo shoot and the pictures show them how beautiful and valuable they are – and help them start a new, happier phase of life (www.intimatestatements.com).