It's saying "Hey, I think I have a niche for this. I'm willing to lay everything I've got out on the line, just on the off chance that it works out and turns into the best thing I've ever done." It's saying "Hello, this is the greatest hope and biggest dream that I've grown in my heart, and I'm willing to try and make it come to fruition." It's saying "I know that somebody is going to screenshot this and send it to their friend with an eye roll and a 'She thinks she's a photographer now." It's knowing that there's overwhelming odds against you, but you believe in yourself enough to step forward with this passion that you believe could change your life. That doesn't happen very often in life, I don't think. I mean, I feel like maybe you do that kind of thing with Motherhood, but it's more subtle. Like sure, you say "I am going to be a Mother" but I feel like once the egg implants and the fetus starts growing, you don't have a choice. Like it's a brave step forward, but it's also forced. When you grow a dream, you always have the choice to keep it safe in your grip. Or you're able to tuck it back away into the safe place of your mind. It's better to keep it in the "maybe someday" category, over the "Let's see what happens" category.
About two years ago, I was in a rut. I loved my kids, I loved being their Mom, I loved staying at home with them... but I was really battling depression. Let's just lay it all on the line. I mean, we're human beings, right? We want affirmation, we want accolades, we want to be recognized for our hard work. But Motherhood, as we all know, is something that is astoundingly unappreciated, and none of us really understand everything our Mom did for us until we have our own ungrateful children. I was lacking in a sense of identity, because I revolved every victory and loss around my role as their Mom. I pondered all of my options. Was there something I could make? No. I'm not crafty, and my house looks like a Pinterest graveyard. I don't like starting a project that I can't finish the next day. Was there something I could sell? Lolz. No. It's a great opportunity for so many people, but it's not my gig. I could sing? But not in front of people, except at church, but that's different. I don't charge people for that. Maybe I could invest in some sort of apparatus that does crafty work for me? No. I threw a sewing machine away because I couldn't figure out how to thread the needle. Then came the comparisons (number one, why do we do that to ourselves? Why do we compare our potential to other people? That's a different blog for a different time.) For every idea I came up with, I would think "Oh. But ______ is so good at that already. It's not an upper hand for me." Frustrated with myself and my lack of hobbies outside of breastfeeding, I remember sitting at my kitchen table with my head in my hands. "WHY DIDN'T YOU GIVE ME ANY TALENTS?!" I sighed, half a prayer, half talking to myself. And spent the next few days really mediating on what I could do to financially contribute to my family, get myself out of the house, and remember what it felt like to do something for myself instead of for my kids.
The weeks pressed on, when my love for writing kept nudging at my heart. I knew what the nudge was, and usually it was shrugged off with "LITERALLY NO ONE WRITES ANYMORE. I'm not interested in writing books, I'm not interested in being a professional blogger, I'm not interested in writing letters on someone's behalf. There's nothing left to do with that." Still... the nudge remained. I tried to pick up on blogging in a desperate attempt to understand why writing was pressed so heavily against my heart. One day, while blogging about my sweet babies, I started searching my computer for pictures that would match what I was writing about. Instantly, something clicked. I looked around my house at pictures of my kids. Canvases covered my walls. Hundreds and hundreds of photos were stored in folders on my computer. Each of them shot meticulously and nary a one was just a blurry, pointless pictures. Each picture told a story. I could tell you exactly why I took each one, what my kids were doing that made me pick up the camera, and a short narrative to describe the way the picture made me feel looking at it months, or in Ella's case, years later. "Surely not," I said to myself. Photography? How could I possibly compete with this saturated market? No one would take me seriously. I hardly know how to work the camera on Manual. Nobody would pay me for these. Then, as the slideshow of our year played on the screen in the background while I thought, I looked over and saw this photo:
This picture will stand out in my memory for the rest of my life. It was taken after midnight. We had fought our son for hours to sleep. Something was in the air that night I guess, because he wasn't going to sleep longer than 10 minutes, regardless of how many songs were sung, bargains were made, or tears I cried. I was playing on my phone when I heard "Pssst..." and looked up to see this. Cody's smirk of victory accompanied by the exhaustion across the rest of his body. I can still hear how heavy he was breathing under the weight of that chunky little boy. His phone rests beside him, playing Chris Stapleton, which was the only thing that we could get Adam to sleep with for the first year of his life. A baby walker and bag of blocks are hiding in the background, and I still feel the gratitude that I felt that night, when my husband cleaned up the blocks that were scattered around the house only hours before, and the way it felt to walk through the house without being afraid of my feet or their fate. In that minute, I grabbed the camera, because I knew that I would look at this picture in 30 years and smile. And probably remember it like it happened the day before.
That night, I realized that yes, I am a writer, but maybe more than that... I'm a storyteller. Maybe the nudge to write didn't necessarily mean publishing works to be read. Maybe the meaning behind the love for writing involves the stories that I'm able to tell. I love to write, and I love to take photos, but making people feel something when they see or read my work is the drive behind what I do. I see that in my portfolios, whether that be for my family or whether that be your family. I see the way your husband looks at you when you're trying to wrangle the kids. When he's caught somewhere between embarrassment at their behavior and pride that this woman and those babies tugging at the dress that she never gets to wear belong to him. I see the way your kids light up when you're trying to make them laugh at photoshoots. When the sounds and the jokes that I don't get start to roll off of your tongue, but the spark in their eyes lights up. I see the hesitation on your face when your kid cooperates completely with me, and I listen for the laugh and the sigh of relief when your kid makes a fart noise or a goofy face. The candids are where the story lies, so I'm always so grateful when a kid gets comfortable enough just to be himself around me. The reason that I love photography is because I get the chance to creatively tell the story I read about a family. This isn't always with words. Sometimes I go on gushy Facebook rants, but the rest of the time, I try to include a creative mix of candids, posed portraits, and black and white photos that make you remember every detail of the time we spent together. As a professional wallflower, I love quietly observing, and observing through the lens is the coolest job in the world.
As you know, I was brave enough to launch my business almost two years ago. So far, things seem to be going pretty well. Some months, I can almost hear the crickets, but other months, I have to turn people away because the days fill up. That's a part of it that I've learned to shrug off. Sometimes you're busy, sometimes your not. But I'm so relieved to say that I've never left a session feeling unhappy with the shots during the session. Some shoots felt more chaotic than others, and other times I prayed through the edits, thinking "Please meet the image count, please meet the image count." I can think of one session that was a total disaster, but that was just a series of unfortunate events. It wouldn't be a real business if it didn't include those kind of things. I've had opportunities to meet so many wonderful people, and as a giant introvert, I don't take those opportunities lightly. I have been amazed at some of the shots that I was able to capture, some of the stories I've been able to tell, and some of the hilarity that accompanied them. I have so appreciated the loyalty of some of my clients. This is hard, competitive business, and you can always find somebody cheaper... maybe even somebody better. But the fact that you keep coming back to me and my sarcasm just means the world. I see that loyalty, and I always try to honor it in your image counts. Sure, I went to the eye doctor in May and said "I think I have like, glaucoma, or something" and I was patted on the shoulder and told that 6 hours of computer time a day wasn't healthy. There have been seasons of learning priorities and seasons of feeling a little over stretched (read: October to Mid-December), but the entire experience has been so wonderful and exactly what I needed to feel like a Shania kind of woman again.
So basically, my blabbering tonight is to thank you for allowing me to tell these stories. For continuing to contact me to capture your family and your sweet babies. You keep calling me to come back, and each time you do, it boosts my confidence and my skill set a little bit more. It's almost Christmas season, when you'll find me borderline grinchy and red eyed from trying to get your Christmas card photos edited and back to you as quickly as possible... but in case I forget, I am so thankful for what I do. I'm thankful that I said yes to risking falling on my face, and I'm so honored to capture any little part of your life.
***Shameless plug:
August, September, and all but 1 October WEEKEND evenings are booked. This is not to say that I can't find a spot for you... it's only to say that it's time to cautiously accept that it's time to start thinking about these things. Just go to Hobby Lobby if you don't believe me.
