11/05/2025
This summer, I gave up.
I stepped away from the thing I’ve loved for years. After spending money and an entire weekend shooting a rodeo & loosing the images that I luckily got back but at a big cost. Only for not a single person to buy an image, I felt defeated. Then came my first negative review. The person never hired me, yet their words still stung. Every bit of criticism I’ve ever heard about my work, prices, editing style, drive, and creative process replayed in my head until I let it break me down. For the first time in years, I didn’t pick up my camera not even for the small, everyday moments I used to love capturing. It took a toll on my self worth and mental health since I love creating art and capturing those little things that go unnoticed. I convinced myself that my images weren’t good enough. That I wasn’t good enough. That maybe I was just passionate, not talented.
Eventually, the quiet got heavy. I started to miss it the late nights editing, the rush of golden hour, the feeling after I send an album im truly proud of. I had a few shoots already scheduled, and I made myself show up. Once I started working, everything clicked back into place. I realized I could still do this, and that I always could.
That moment grounded me. It reminded me how far I’ve come, how much I’ve learned, and how many mistakes shaped the photographer I am now. My feet are back on the ground, my heart is back in it, and I’ve fallen in love with this craft all over again. I’m proud of the middle-school version of me taking iPhone 5 photos just for fun. I’m proud of the high-school version who earned three awards and two honorable mentions for photography on national level. I’m proud of who I am today. The woman who got back up.
It’s never too late to start again. 📸
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