You don’t need to perform to be beautiful. You don’t need to hit the right angles or rehearse your smile, and you certainly don’t need to become some ethereal Pinterest bride or remember how to hold your bouquet. That’s not where beauty lives. I’ve worked with so many couples who walk into this experience thinking, “I’m not good in front of the camera.” They say it casually, like it’s just a fact. Like they’re resigned to it.

But behind that statement is something deeper: a fear of being judged, of not looking how they think they should. There’s a kind of grief wrapped up in that, isn’t there? Grieving the idea that maybe the way they naturally move or laugh or lean into their partner isn’t worthy of being documented. Let me say this clearly:

That’s a lie.

Somewhere along the line, maybe from a bad photoshoot, maybe from too many polished Instagram feeds—we’ve absorbed the belief that being photogenic is a skill, or worse, a requirement. That only certain types of bodies, faces, or emotions are worth photographing. That, unless you look effortless and editorial, you should hide. This is the story too many of us carry, and it’s exhausting.

I think about people with an eye for detail and a deep, innate desire for authenticity,  aesthetically sharp, emotionally intelligent, and spiritually intuitive. And yet, even they worry they might look stiff. Or awkward. Or not enough. I hear it every time I send a gallery: “We’re not usually good in photos, but…” “I was so nervous, but this actually feels like us.” “I didn’t think I’d love seeing myself like this.”

Maybe you’ve saved a hundred inspo pics. Maybe you’ve practised poses in the mirror. Or maybe you even hired a photographer once and ended up feeling like the best version of yourself never really showed up in the photos. And now? You’re kind of bracing. Bracing for another round of disappointment.

But let’s try something different.

Let’s stop trying to fix the way you show up on camera and instead, let’s create an environment where you don’t have to think about it. Where the energy in the room makes you forget the camera is even there. Where you don’t have to perform because the person behind the lens actually sees you. That’s my job. Not to pose you into something you’re not, but to notice who you already are. And look, I get it, some part of you still doesn’t believe me. That’s okay. Maybe you’ve told yourself, “That works for other people, but I’m different.” You’re not. Or at least, not in the way you think.

You are different in that you care. You care about how it feels, not just how it looks. And you want to remember your day as it unfolded, not as it was directed. You want someone to reflect your story back to you, not rewrite it.

When you stop performing, you start remembering.

Here’s a truth I want you to remember. When you stop performing, you start remembering. You remember the way your love feels. The way your people showed up for you. The way the day unfolded, messy, beautiful, and unscripted. And when the photos come back, you see yourself clearly. 

Not the curated version.

If you’re still reading, maybe something in you is softening. Maybe you’re exhaling a bit. Good, let’s stay there for a second. Imagine your wedding day: you wake up and feel grounded. You’re surrounded by people who know you, not just people who expect you to entertain. You’re allowed to be quiet or loud, nervous or euphoric. And the person holding the camera isn’t telling you how to stand, they’re just watching the story unfold.

That’s what I want to offer you.

A calm presence. A quiet witness. A creative guide who knows that the best photos don’t come from performance. They come from truth. So if you’ve been holding your breath, trying to figure out how to look good in photos, maybe it’s time to let that go. 

Let me hold the lens. You show up.

You don’t need to perform to be beautiful.

You already are.