10/13/2026
Nine years ago, I picked up a camera because photography made me happy. I wanted to create something meaningful—to give people photographs that would become more precious as the years passed.
That passion grew into a business, and after years of learning, trying, making mistakes, and figuring things out as I went, I achieved something I once only dreamed of: a studio of my own, with my name on a sign above the doors.
I’m proud of that. Which makes this difficult to share.
In August 2027, I will be closing my studio and will not be renewing my lease. My plan is to step away from professional bookings and reserve my photography for my family.
This decision comes after one of my slowest seasons yet, with minimal interest and interaction around my mini sessions, and a lot of reflection about what it takes to keep this business going.
It costs me approximately $13,000 a year just for my business to exist, before paying myself for the hours spent planning, photographing, editing, and delivering galleries. I have been using income from my other employment to keep it afloat. As much as I love photography, I have to consider what that means for my family because I already work 60 hours a week in healthcare.
I have put endless hours into rebuilding my social media presence, updating my website, improving my Google listings, making public appearances, and trying to reconnect with people. So much work happens before a session is ever booked. I’ve kept trying because this business matters to me, and I wanted to give it every opportunity to succeed.
But at the end of the day, I have to accept that I cannot keep giving everything to everything. Some things have to be let go, even when I love them.
Running a small business here in Connecticut has been harder than I imagined. Our area has so many photographers, and when others charge less and include more, it becomes difficult to compete while covering the expenses of my own business. I understand that families have budgets and choices. I have a family and a budget, too.
Lately, I’ve received more inquiries for donations and discounts than for paid bookings. I have donated a lot over the years, and I’m grateful I’ve been able to support our community. But every donation involves real time and real money—both of which come from my family. I’ve had to recognize that I cannot continue giving at the same level while using another paycheck to keep the business open.
That is difficult to say when helping people matters to you. It is also part of being honest about what you can sustain.
I started photography to share something I loved. I wanted to help people see the beauty in their lives and give them a way to hold onto it. I hope I’ve done that.
But the constant marketing, competing for bookings, and trying to prove the value of my work have become exhausting. I don’t want my sense of worth as an artist to depend on a full calendar or the response to a social media post.
I want to live fully, with gratitude. I want more time with my family, more room to enjoy the ordinary days, and the freedom to pick up my camera simply because something moves me. I want to feel that I am enough as a mother and an artist without continually having to market myself to prove it.
I will not be accepting wedding bookings for August 2027 or later. For now, I’m also not planning to accept other sessions from August 2027 onward. I may consider limited bookings in fall 2027 or revisit things sometime in the future, but I’m not making that commitment right now. This is where things stand today.
I’ll likely keep this page active and continue sharing my photographs with those who enjoy following my work. My love for photography is still here, and I hope that letting go of the business overhead will give me space to enjoy it more freely again.
To everyone who has booked a session, returned year after year, recommended me, shared my work, or trusted me with a moment you wanted to remember: thank you. I know you had choices, and I’m grateful you chose me.
You helped me build that studio dream. You filled it with tiny babies, growing families, laughter, and moments I was honored to preserve.
I’m sad to close its doors, but I’m proud that I opened them.
Letting go is hard. I’m learning that I can be grateful for everything this chapter gave me and still know it’s time to turn the page. 🤍
—Amber
