“When did you get more comfortable as a photographer?”
That’s the question my brain people asked me this week. We were talking about photography and helping clients feel comfortable, and I shared how I believe connection trumps technical skills. The technicals are important, of course, but you can be amazing at getting the perfect shot and still do a poor job of connecting with people. Relationships grow from connection, otherwise, it’s just business. (And look, I get that it IS business, but photography isn’t the same as the grocery store — not to me.)
My ability to connect, to just be myself, even turning up the volume when necessary with kiddos or doggos or adult-os who need an extra dose, has helped me to build these relationships. And though I think I’ve been good at it for a long time (it IS my superpower, after all), it was only after working as an advocate at the domestic violence organization that I found my own real comfort there. Something inside of me connected that if I could go into those really dark places with people who were suffering as I had once suffered, surely I could step into photo sessions and be fully myself – goofiness and all.
Light.
And stepping into this truth has helped me to start challenging myself in other areas, most specifically the things I’ve believed about myself.
I don’t like the focus to be on me.
I don’t like to be in the spotlight.
I work better in the background.
I don’t like to compete.
I make a great second. (I do but I also make a great first.)
It’s OK if people don’t pay me. (Ummm…)
Is any of that really true or are they more lies I’ve told myself?
Because I remember well the little girl who loved getting on stage, who loved an audience, dancing, singing, acting, participating in speech contests and talent shows.
I’m starting to challenge all the lies that have grown out of my past of pain, of being told to sit down and shut up, of not shedding tears because that led to more tears, of hiding my light. As I’ve peeled back the layers of trauma and healed each raw memory, I can now look at everything untrue a little better. I can see where the connection with myself – the relationship with myself – was disrupted and distorted.
I can face the noise in my head, the whispered lies that swirl about, and really examine what hides there. Turns out, that’s not my voice after all. It never was.
And I can invite that little star to come back out and shine shine shine because she – because I – was not made to be invisible and silent.
I was never meant to hide my light.
(And neither are you. Shine shine shine, my friend.)
Mentioned: Harmonized Brain Centers
-December 21, 2021