Ever since I was little, I’ve been obsessed with the idea of the ocean. It all started with Mako Mermaids—yes, the magical world of underwater transformations, moon pools, and ocean secrets had me hooked. I’d spend hours imagining what it would feel like to swim freely beneath the surface, hair floating like seaweed, surrounded by shimmering fish. Add a few seaside vacations to the mix, where I’d stare at the waves and wonder what was hiding just beyond, and the ocean didn’t just become a place—it became a dream.
For a long time, that dream lived only in my imagination. But the older I got, the more I wanted to really experience the underwater world—not just through a screen or daydreams, but for real. That curiosity slowly turned into determination. And eventually, I took the leap.
That dream finally began to take shape when I signed up for my first dive. I was excited, nervous, and constantly googling “how to not panic underwater.” The training taught me to breathe calmly, stay balanced, and respect the ocean’s power. It wasn’t just about strapping on a tank—it was about stepping into a world that didn’t belong to me, but welcomed me if I was willing to learn.
And then… the marine life. No screen could ever do it justice. Colorful fish darted between coral, curious eyes watching me as I floated past, a sea turtle gliding like it had all the time in the world. But nothing prepared me for the moment I looked up and saw a group of manta rays dancing above my head, their wings moving like slow, graceful waves. It felt like the ocean itself was performing just for me. Time stopped.
But the ocean also showed me its pain. On one of my dives, I saw an eagle ray tangled in a fishing net, struggling to move, its graceful form weighed down and helpless. That image is burned into my heart. It was a harsh reminder that the beauty of the ocean is under threat—and often because of us.
That dive didn’t just change how I saw the sea. It changed how I saw the world. The ocean isn’t just beautiful; it’s fragile. Alive. It needs us to do better—for every dancing manta ray, for every trapped eagle ray, for every piece of coral trying to survive.
And now, I’m not just someone who loves the ocean—I’m someone who’s ready to fight for it.
These pictures and the videos were taken during my dives.
