Why I Don't Mind That You Hate Having Your Photo Taken

One of the things I hear most often as a photographer is, "I hate having my photo taken."

Sometimes it's said with a nervous laugh. Sometimes it's accompanied by a long list of reasons why the person standing in front of me is convinced they're going to be difficult to photograph. They tell me they're awkward, unphotogenic, uncomfortable in front of the camera, or that they've never liked photos of themselves. Often they've spent days worrying about what to wear, how they'll look, or whether they'll feel completely out of place.

The truth is, I hear these concerns so often that they're almost a normal part of every photoshoot. What I've learned over the years is that very few people arrive feeling completely confident. In fact, many of the people who tell me they hate having their photo taken are some of the very people who end up surprised by how much they love their images. Not because I've performed some kind of magic trick and not because I've changed who they are. For a brief moment, they've been able to see themselves through a different lens.

I think many of us carry around a running commentary about ourselves that can be incredibly harsh. We notice the things we wish were different before we notice anything else. We focus on the parts of ourselves we've been taught to criticise and overlook the qualities that make us uniquely who we are. After years of hearing messages about how we should look, act, age or present ourselves, it becomes easy to believe that we are somehow falling short.

Then a camera appears and all of those thoughts suddenly move to the front of our minds. Instead of seeing ourselves as whole people, we start focusing on individual details. The smile that's never quite right. The lines around our eyes. The weight we've gained. The way our hair sits. The angle of our chin. We become so busy analysing ourselves that we forget the things other people notice first.

What always strikes me is that while someone is listing all the things they dislike about themselves, I'm usually noticing something entirely different.

I'm noticing the warmth in their smile when they stop overthinking. The way their eyes light up when they talk about something they love. Their kindness, their humour, their strength, their energy. I'm noticing the things that make them feel real and human. The things their friends, family and colleagues see every day but that they often overlook in themselves.

Perhaps that's one of the reasons I love photography so much.

I didn't become a photographer because I was fascinated by cameras. I became a photographer because I've always been fascinated by people. By stories. By connection. By the way a photograph can capture something deeper than appearance.

The images I love most have never been about perfection. They're about presence.

They're about capturing the essence of a person rather than creating a flawless version of them. They're about documenting the laugh that appears unexpectedly, the confidence that slowly emerges.

Those are often the moments that people connect with most when they see their images.

Over the years, I've come to realise that photography isn't really about looking perfect. It's about allowing yourself to be seen.

We live in a world that constantly encourages us to judge ourselvesm especially women. To compare. To edit. To find flaws. To wait until we've lost weight, grown our hair, changed our wardrobe or somehow become a better version of ourselves before we allow ourselves to step in front of the camera.

Yet life doesn't wait for perfection. The people who love us aren't waiting for us to become perfect before they see our value. They already see our personality, our warmth, our humour and our vibe. They already see the things that matter most.

I think that's why photographing people feels like such a privilege.

Every photoshoot is an opportunity to create a space where someone can put down that inner critic for a while. A place where they don't need to perform or prove anything. A place where they can simply show up as themselves and trust that who they are is already enough.

So if you're someone who hates having your photo taken, I want you to know you're not alone. Most people feel that way at first. What I would gently encourage you to do, though, is leave the negative self-talk at the door when you arrive.

Just for an hour or two.

Give yourself permission to be curious instead of critical.

Trust that you don't need to become more photogenic, more confident or more perfect before you deserve beautiful photographs.

My job isn't to photograph a flawless version of you.

My job is to photograph you.

And honestly, that's the part I love most.