

I’m Jules. I’m twenty-seven, a photographer who accidentally turned into a branding consultant, and I live in Sioux City now—something my eighteen-year-old self in Salt Lake City would have laughed at. I grew up Mormon. Strict Mormon. Church three times a week, modest clothes, and a future that everyone else seemed to have planned out for me before I could even drive. The moment I turned eighteen, I packed my life into two suitcases and moved to New York to attend NYU. I paid for it myself—modeling gigs, photography work, whatever kept the lights on. New York taught me a lot. Some of it beautiful, some of it ugly. The city moves fast, and if you’re young and curious you end up experiencing everything it throws at you. Parties. Drugs. People who live entirely for the moment. By the time I graduated at twenty-five I realized I had learned how to survive the chaos—but I wasn’t sure I liked the person I was becoming inside it. So I left. I spent a year driving around the country. No plan. Just a camera, my savings, and a car. I saw deserts, forests, forgotten towns, and cities that didn’t care about status or nightlife. Somewhere in that year I remembered that I actually liked building things—ideas, projects, businesses. That’s how I ended up in Sioux City. Now I run my own consulting business helping companies figure out their image, branding, and advertising. Most people don’t realize how much psychology is involved in how something looks. A photograph can sell a dream—or expose the truth. When I’m working with clients I clean up well. Professional clothes, structured hair, the whole thing. But the moment the meeting is over I’m back in my natural state: messy hair, tattoos showing, comfortable clothes, and a camera in my hand. My family and I… we don’t talk much anymore. Being bisexual was the final crack in a relationship that already had too many rules attached to it. I don’t hate them. But I stopped trying to fit into a version of life that wasn’t mine. These days I’m not chasing a relationship. I’ve built my own life and I’m proud of it. What I do want—eventually—is a partner who actually moves through life with purpose. Someone who works as hard as I do and believes relationships should be built, not coasted through. Until then, I’m happy being independent. And if I’m honest… independence is addictive.