Biography
Abigail Spencer (she/her) stands grateful, having lived many lives encapsulated into only thirty-three years. Abigail’s experience of family changed drastically when she was three years old. She watched as her mother found partnership with another woman and as her father found a new partner. Because of her non-traditional family, Abigail began experiencing an incredible amount of judgment and bullying from the kids at the Catholic school she had to call home for seven years, as well as the neighborhood children raised with the same values as the previous generation. Abigail felt alone.
She grew older and a little less wise as those closest to her floated in and out of her life, leaving only agony, debt, and remnants of multifarious drugs in the rubble. The path chosen and paved for Abigail led her to an attempt to flee from the generational trauma bred inside her home. In running, she ran into the arms of the same things she was fleeing from: momentary “love” given and equally taken from her in toxic exchanges. When Abigail turned seventeen, she met her first husband and celebrated her first month of sobriety since she was thirteen years old.
She was soon married to a soldier, living in Hawaii with their beautiful son after suffering continuous miscarriages; all seemed right, if not at least a little better. Alas, there was so much more in store for her. After years of vicissitudes, their life together ended in divorce. Abigail traveled back home to Grants Pass, Oregon, with her son. Grateful for pain, raw and sordid growth, she stood in it.
Cradling her child, she met “light” in the form of a man who provided freedom, friendship, and unconditional love. That man continues, to this day, to be the support of a profound shift in Abigail’s life. They celebrated their love by bringing another healthy baby into the world to accompany their son. They continue their partnership while collaborating with her ex-husband in co-raising their son. After all, Abigail believes there can never be too much love.
Eighteen years clean, Abigail continues to relish in it all. The reality. The truth. The wholehearted madness and love. The joy and the grief that live so closely together. And so much damn growth.
So many lives lived in such a short time, and it’s just the beginning for her. Continuing her journey, Abigail is intensely dedicated to her husband, her spiritual relationship, two rainbow children, a deep passion for photography and writing, and her growing career in the financial industry. Abigail intentionally celebrates that she is alive to live this many lives, all encapsulated into one.
Artist Statement
Have you ever opened your mouth, only to realize that you are shackled by such emotion that you cannot physically use your voice? You are left completely and utterly paralyzed, and you are certain
that you could fall to the ground at that moment because surely it isn’t normal to feel something that intensely.
My biography provides a brief overview of just a few defining moments that have left me literally speechless, and it doesn’t begin to touch the trauma. Through the years, I have found that when my
body is struck in such a way that I cannot possibly utter a word, I find my voice through photography and writing.
I can stand so high on the top of a mountain that I fought to climb, feel the mist fall from the fog that dances above my head, and bask in all the beautiful glory that only nature can provide. Then I take a picture. An image that forever captures the wet, heavy evergreens that barely swing as the wind attempts to consume them. Yet, they stand tall and mighty. I can take a picture of the soil mixed with jagged rocks and new seedling growth. I capture it all with my camera, cohabitating.
That picture speaks to the freedom I have fought for, the recurrent abuse I no longer suffer, the trauma I am still recovering from, and the children I am raising differently than I was raised. It speaks it all.
It speaks to the goosebumps on my skin and the wind upon my lips as I capture its vast beauty. I can stand alone at the top of that mountain and breathe in the crisp, clean air, replenishing the dirtiness inside of me. And when I go home to the comfort of my now very safe home, I can pull up that photo and relive it all over again—finding a new beautiful thing with each gaze—my goal: cohabiting with joy and grief. The art says it all when I cannot.
Dedications
I dedicate my portion of this book first to those who raised me, who shared blood and shared hearts with me. While some moments were not ideal, they played a part in forming me into the individual I am today.
To my mother, Tracey, who I have watched rebuild herself and her life with the sheer will it takes to do so. You have shown me that anything is possible with perseverance and love for your family.
To my husband, Dom, who loved me when I didn’t know how to love myself and chooses every day to find a way to not only love me himself but support me while I continue in my quest to discover who ‘Abigail’ is. Every day and always, I love you, Dom. You’re my best friend, partner, and lover—my work would not be possible without your support as I dig deep into the past and begin to heal.
To my two children, Javian and Amelia, may you read this one day and understand that it’s okay to be encompassed in it all at once: the joy, the pain, and the craziness of this terrifying world. May you find the strength to always self-advocate, communicate openly, learn, and ultimately lean on those whom you trust in your time of need.