09/05/2026
Social media is a huge part of how I advertise my photography. It’s how I communicate with clients, share my work, and connect with people who might someday trust me to photograph their family.
But, it was also slowly ruining photography for me.
I became addicted to “bettering my work.”
Which sounds productive, right?
Except “bettering my work” started to look a lot like scrolling for hours, comparing myself to other photographers, picking apart my images, and convincing myself that I wasn’t good enough.
I was comparing my work to complete strangers who have $80,000 worth of gear, decades of experience, assistants, studios, perfect locations, and an entirely different life than mine.
That isn’t my reality.
And honestly, it wasn’t a very fair comparison.
I found myself getting frustrated with photographs I actually loved because I had just spent an hour looking at someone else’s.
I would wonder why my clients weren’t posting their photos.
I’d notice when a past client posted another photographer’s work and immediately start questioning mine.
I’d see someone else announce that they were fully booked and wonder what I was doing wrong.
I’d watch other photographers grow their businesses faster than I was and feel like I was falling behind.
I’d save editing tips, posing ideas, presets, reels, camera settings, business advice… until I had consumed so much information that I couldn’t even remember what I liked anymore.
And somewhere in all of that scrolling, I stopped actually seeing my own work.
So I stopped.
I don’t have social media on my phone anymore.
I still log in on my computer. I still post. I still communicate with clients. Social media is still an important part of my business.
But I don’t doomscroll.
I don’t constantly check to see who posted their gallery.
I don’t watch to see what other photographers are doing.
I don’t need to know whether someone chose to print my images, post them, share them, or quietly keep them on their camera roll.
And honestly?
There is something incredibly freeing about not knowing.
Now, when I’m photographing your family, I’m not thinking about whether the image will perform well.
I’m not thinking about what another photographer would have done.
I’m not thinking about whether someone will like the way I edited it.
I’m just watching.
I see the way your toddler reaches for you.
The way your kids laugh when they think I’m not looking.
The way you pull your baby close.
The little moments happening between the “poses.”
And I capture them.
I’m still learning. I’m still growing. I still want to become a better photographer.
But now I’m doing that by photographing, not by constantly looking at everyone else.
And I think that distinction has made all the difference.