For years I wanted to work on a project photographing Palestine’s queer community, but I never found the right angle to tell the story. I wanted to avoid falling into the trap of having my subjects viewed as “exotic”, or for the whole thing to be considered as catering to a specific audience. Until the pandemic hit. That’s when globally, and on a basic level, we were all suddenly going through the same thing, and that for me was the perfect starting point. Maryam (not her real name) was one of the main characters I photographed for my Errant Doves series. We met through a friend and instantly connected. Her sense of humour, her openness and honesty made it clear to me that we were going to work well together. Maryam told me that when her father found photos of her with her girlfriend, he rushed to her room with a knife. Her mother, clinging to his back, saved her. Because of the pandemic, shelters that otherwise could have offered refuge did not have space to take her in. But she planned her escape and the lockdown prevented her family from finding her. Now, for the time being, she’s safe. In the photo, you see her on a couch as she pulls her T-shirt over her face. For Maryam, who suffered a lot of abuse and domestic violence, it remains a struggle to reconnect with her body. Following our long chats, I came to understand that many memories haunt her. In front of the camera, Maryam started to loosen up and engage with the space and objects around her, retelling her story through movements and gestures, as if using her body to paint inside the “canvas” of my frame. And reminding me that those whose stories seemed to have scarred them the most are the ones who fight for life the most. Born in Jerusalem and raised in the West Bank, Samar Hazboun currently works as Middle East and north Africa photo editor for Agence France Presse