Look Closer: Rewriting the Way You See Yourself
I’ve lost count of the times a client has opened their gallery and messaged me:
“Please don’t share any of the photos of me.”
“I don’t like how I look.”
“Honestly, I feel worse now than before.”
If that’s ever been you, I get it. I’m a photographer who also has to work at liking photos of myself. Here’s what I’ve learned—about images, about mirrors, and about the way our minds make meaning.
Look Closer, Not Less
I’m not here to tell you to stop looking in the mirror, to log off social, or to ditch magazines. I’m inviting you to look more—but differently. Look closer until the comparisons lose their grip.
Study yourself piece by piece and make amends with the parts you’ve labeled “flaws.” Ask what each part is really doing for you, then offer it love.
The soft belly that kept you nourished through stress.
The laugh lines that prove you’ve lived and loved.
The shoulders that carry kids, cameras, groceries, and grief.
When you change how you look, you change what you see.
A Piece-by-Piece Truce
Here’s a simple 5-minute mirror ritual to try for one week:
Choose one feature. Hairline, jaw, arms, belly—small is good.
Name its job. “These legs get me to the river.” “These hands make art.”
Offer thanks. Out loud if you can: “Thank you for carrying me.”
Give it language. Replace the old label with one new word: strong, tender, capable, sacred, enough.
Breathe and release. Two slow breaths. Move on.
Tiny reconciliations add up. You don’t have to love every angle to live at peace with yourself.
How to Open Your Photo Gallery Without Spiraling
Before you zoom in to critique, try this sequence:
See the whole story. Notice the light, place, connection — not just your body.
Choose three favorites. Color, expression, movement — pick anything you like before naming what you don’t.
Ask kinder questions. Not “Do I look skinny?” but “Do I look like I was there?” “Can I feel that laugh?”
Save for later. Make a folder called “Future Me.” Photos you’re unsure about now often become treasures.
What I See (and What I Promise)
Through my lens, I’m chasing aliveness—your warmth, your humor, the way you soften with someone you love.
I promise to:
Photograph with gentleness and direction that honors your body.
Prioritize movement, connection, and light over perfection.
Offer collaborative selects and opt-in sharing. Your boundaries are respected.
Remind you (as many times as needed): photos are for remembering, not measuring.
If You Still Feel Heavy
Sometimes images poke old wounds. If a gallery brings up big feelings, pause. Step away. Come back when your nervous system is steadier. You’re not “too sensitive”—you’re human.
The Quiet Goal
Not to adore every photo. Not to perform confidence.
The goal is recognition: to see the person in the picture and think,
“There I am.”
Whole. In progress. Worthy.
If you want, I can build this practice right into your session—gentle coaching, movement that feels good in your body, and a little post-session reflection so your gallery lands softer.
When you’re ready, we’ll look closer together.