When I first started my business, I kept trying to fit into what I thought a professional photographer should sound like: polished, confident, like I had all the answers. I looked at the websites of people I admired and tried to write how they wrote. I talked about how much I loved love (and I do). I used words like “authentic” and “timeless”. I repeated phrases I thought people wanted to hear, like "capturing your special day" and "for the wildly in love."

But something felt off, all real but like the words didn’t belong to me. I was working consistently and getting inquiries, but they didn’t always feel aligned my first year. I was attracting people who didn’t value the parts of my work that mattered most to me—storytelling, trust, representation, presence.

I left the noise of the corporate world because I craved something slower, something more honest. Something that felt like mine. So why was I rebuilding my business using the same systems that burned me out in the first place? I was marketing what I thought people wanted. Not what I truly offered. I had to go back to the drawing board.

The truth is, I didn’t start meeting more aligned clients until I started relating to my work and my brand differently. The shift didn’t come from a new strategy— It started with me.

If you’re a photographer craving more alignment, here are three shifts that helped me build a more honest brand and connect with the people who were looking for exactly this.

I STOPPED TRYING TO BE THE EXPERT — AND STARTED SHOWING UP AS A GUIDE

There’s a lot of pressure to know it all — to position yourself as the expert in every caption, every conversation. That’s totally valid for photographers who operate that way. But for me? That approach left me burnt out once.

I left the corporate world after realizing something that changed everything: the people at the top—the Board of Directors, the C-Suite, the decision-makers—weren’t all experts either. They were just confident. They made bold choices and figured things out as they went.

Eventually, I realized my clients didn’t need performance from me—they needed presence. They weren’t hiring me for flawless answers. They were looking for a thoughtful partner. Someone that was curious about them and their day. I realized I’m here to be a guide—someone who’s walking alongside, asking questions, learning out loud, holding space for honest dynamics, and offering what I’ve discovered so far.

I can hold knowledge and curiosity at the same time. Because while I may know the ins and outs of City Hall, I’m a learner of their relationship. They’re the experts in their story. I’m here to listen, not lead.

Try this: You don’t have to wait until you’ve “arrived” to show up. People connect with transparency. Don’t be afraid to share what you’re learning in real time — your process is part of your magic.

I STOPPED TRYING TO BE FOR EVERYONE— AND STARTED CENTERING WHAT I VALUE

Once I accepted that not every inquiry was meant for me — that I could lovingly release the ones that didn’t feel aligned — I started making space for the ones that were. The clients who care about the in-between moments. The ones who want to be present, soft and move at a pace that felt their own. The ones who read my “About” page and say, “I can feel safe here.”

That clarity didn’t stop at client work — it expanded into my collaborations, my content, my language. Safe spaces. Presence. Queer love. Decolonizing the wedding industry. These aren’t trends I nod to — they’re values I actively build around. So I stopped hiding them in the fine print and started putting them at the center of my work.

And sure, some people will say, “But I want to separate my job and my life.” That mentality might make sense—for the privileged. For those who feel safe regardless of where they are or who they’re with. But if you’re a vendor trying to create safer spaces? Don’t assume people will just know. Say it clearly. Be loud about it. Educate yourself where needed. Show us that you’ve done the work—and that your space is one where we can breathe.

Try this: Get specific in your language. Don’t be afraid to name who you’re speaking to — or how you want to work. The right people will find you. Trust me.

I STARTED BUILDING A BRAND THAT FELT LIKE HOME

We’re told to grow fast, go viral, hustle harder. But that pace never felt like mine. Most of the wedding industry is built by people who were tired of the race—creatives craving something more rooted and real. So I let go of “growth hacks”. I focused on clarity. I asked what kind of space I wanted to create—for myself, and for the people I serve.

That shift grounded everything. My website. My client experience. My brand voice. It all began to reflect a space I could actually live inside—one built on presence, not pressure.

That’s when the inquiries started to feel like conversations. The couples who want to really be in their day—slow it down intentionally. The ones who value the quiet moments. Who want their memories to feel soft and spacious, not staged. And they find me—not because I was the loudest voice, but because I was honest. I showed up with care, not performance.

No, I’m not booked every weekend. And yes, I have slow months. But I’ve learned I don’t need to be overbooked to be seen by the right people.

If you’re in the season of realignment: you don’t need to shout to be heard. You just need to be clear. You get to build something rooted, something honest—something that feels like home.

Try this: Take your time. You just have to be consistent, kind, and real. See a trend going viral? You’re allowed to skip it. Ask yourself: Do I want to be visible — or do I want to be truly seen?

**I ROOTED MY BRAND BEFORE I FOLLOWED A MARKETING STRATEGY**

For a long time, I thought I had to “show up” on social media to prove something—my professionalism, my creativity, my worth. That pressure led me to treat my posts like performances, not conversations. And when you’re already navigating the vulnerability of putting your art into the world, turning your creativity into content can start to feel transactional.

But here’s what I’ve learned: if you haven’t taken the time to understand your values, your voice, and the kind of space you want your brand to hold—marketing can become a mask.

I’m not naturally a salesperson. I come from HR. I know how to build systems and support people—but learning how to sell? That’s still a work in progress. And I trust that I will get there. I post less now, but with more intention. I share my process, my questions, my obstacles—not just the polished parts. I ask: What would be helpful, grounding, or encouraging to someone navigating this work or this season? That question feels more human. More like me.

I’m learning how to hold space for myself as an artist—not just a content creator. And that means giving myself permission to step back. To speak up. To experiment. To unlearn urgency and performance-based thinking.

Am I saying throw strategy out the window? Not at all. Successful people know how to be an artist and operate a business. But strategy is most effective when it’s aligned. For me, intentionality, slowing down, and presence are the foundation. That’s the kind of marketing I want to invest in—because it reflects the kind of experience I offer.

Try this: Instead of asking, “What should I post today?” try asking, “Where’s the urgency coming from?” Is it because everyone else is posting—or because it genuinely fits your own marketing path?

FINAL THOUGHTS

The problem with calling this a “saturated industry” is that it suggests we’re all offering the same thing—without naming the systems that pushed us into sameness in the first place. But your work? Your story? It already stands apart.

Here’s what I’ve learned again and again:

You don’t need to be dishonest about where you are in this journey.
You don’t need to reshape your work to fit someone else’s mold.
You don’t need to be loud to be seen—just honest.

If you’re in the early seasons of building or realigning, and the scroll has you second-guessing everything, do me a favor – pause.

You’re not behind. Your people are still finding you—and they will. Let it take the time it takes. You’re learning in real time. You’re doing the work.

Want to talk it through it? My inbox is always open. 💌

RESOURCES THAT HELPED ME FIND MY BRAND VOICE

Podcasts: featuring photographers, thinkers, and storytellers I return to again and again

The Creative's Project by Felicity Zhang – Honest, vulnerable, and grounded in the behind-the-scenes of creative entrepreneurship and nurturing your creative vein.
Passion with Purpose – Interviews with photographers building heart-centered businesses hosted by Nathan Chanski.
Unlocking Us by Brené Brown – For self-trust, boundaries, and learning how to speak your truth.
"How To" by The Atlantic – Surprisingly helpful for exploring creative problem-solving and human behavior.
Creative Pep Talk by Andy J. Pizza – Encouraging and weirdly perfect for days when imposter syndrome hits.
On Being with Krista Tippett – Thoughtful conversations on purpose, spirituality, and presence.

Books: rooted in presence, creative identity and deeper storytelling.

→ Building a StoryBrand by Donald Miller – A foundational resource for clarifying your messaging and speaking directly to your audience. ←
The Karma of Success by Liz Tran – Blends spirituality and strategy in a way that helped me navigate business with softness. IG: @liztranwrites.
Show Your Work by Austin Kleon – A small but mighty book that gave me permission to be seen while still figuring it out.
Happy Money by Ken Honda – Reshaped the way I think about money, energy, client misalignment, and the value I bring to my client’s wedding days.
Just Kids by Patti Smith – A poetic reflection on art, friendship, and becoming — reminds me to stay rooted in heart-first creativity.
Know My Name by Chanel Miller – A masterclass in reclaiming voice and presence — even in quiet moments.
The Art of Gathering by Priya Parker – A beautiful reminder of why intentionality matters in everything from events (weddings) to offerings (community spaces).