You know that old meme format? The "What my friends think I do, what my mom thinks I do, what I actually do" thing? Yeah, that's basically my life as a photographer summed up perfectly.
After years of shooting seniors, families, weddings, and everything in between, I've realized that pretty much everyone has a wildly different idea of what my job actually looks like. And honestly? Most of them are hilarious. So let's break this down, shall we?
What My Family Thinks I Do
Carrie, bless her heart, has seen me at my absolute worst. She's watched me stress over a shoot location at 10 PM the night before a session. She's listened to me explain why I need "just one more lens" even though I already have four. She's seen the creative chaos that is my editing process.
But I think deep down, she still believes I just point a camera at people, click a button, and magic happens.
"Can you take a quick photo of this for my Facebook?" she'll ask, holding up some random item.
Sure, honey. Let me just grab my professional camera, set up proper lighting, adjust my settings, and spend twenty minutes getting the perfect shot of your new coffee mug.
The kids? Oh man. Aiden and Hailey think Dad's job is to embarrass them in public. Which, to be fair, is partially accurate. Nothing says "cool dad" like making your teenager pose seventeen different ways in front of a rusty truck at golden hour while their friends drive by.
They also think I work about two hours a week. After all, they only see me gone for the actual shoot. They don't see the hours of editing, the client communications, the website updates, the social media posts, the equipment maintenance, or the 3 AM anxiety about whether I nailed the focus on those ceremony shots.
"Dad just takes pictures and plays on his computer," is probably how they'd describe it.
My extended family? They're convinced I'm basically living the dream. Traveling to exotic locations (an empty field off 199 counts, right?), working with models (teenagers who'd rather be literally anywhere else), and getting paid to do my hobby.
"Must be nice to not have a real job," I've heard more than once at family gatherings.
Meanwhile, I'm over here working my actual full-time job during the day, then shooting and editing at night and on weekends. But sure, tell me more about how easy my life is while you're enjoying the potato salad.
What My Friends Think I Do
My non-photographer friends fall into two categories.
Category One thinks I'm basically a celebrity. They see the finished images on social media and assume I'm some kind of artistic genius who just wakes up with creative vision flowing through my veins like coffee.
"Dude, you're so talented!" they'll say, looking at a senior portrait that took me forty-five minutes to set up and another three hours to edit.
Thank you, but also, that's like saying a mechanic is talented because they can fix a car. I mean, yes, there's skill involved. But mostly it's years of learning, practice, and a whole lot of trial and error. Also YouTube tutorials. So many YouTube tutorials.
Category Two thinks I'm available 24/7 for free photography services.
"Hey man, my cousin's getting married next month and they need a photographer. I told them you'd do it cheap since we're friends."
Awesome. Let me just clear my schedule, invest a full day of work, thousands of dollars in equipment, years of experience, and hundreds of hours of editing time. For cheap. Because friendship.
Look, I love my friends. I really do. But friendship doesn't pay for camera gear, software subscriptions, or the therapy I'll need after shooting a bridezilla on a 98-degree Texas afternoon.
Then there's the subset of friends who think photography isn't real work because it looks fun. And you know what? Sometimes it IS fun. But fun doesn't mean easy. Playing guitar looks fun too, but I don't see anyone asking professional musicians to perform at their wedding for exposure.
The "exposure" currency, by the way, has never once paid my mortgage. I checked.
What My Clients Think I Do
This one's actually kind of sweet, most of the time.
My senior portrait clients think I'm some kind of confidence wizard. They show up nervous, awkward, convinced they're not photogenic. An hour later, they're posing like they're on the cover of Vogue, laughing, having a blast.
"You made me feel so comfortable!" they'll say afterward.
That's the goal, honestly. But they don't see the years I spent learning how to direct people, how to make small talk while simultaneously calculating light ratios in my head, or how to coax a genuine smile from a seventeen-year-old who really doesn't want to be there.
They think it's natural talent. It's not. It's practice. Lots and lots of awkward practice.
My family photography clients often think the hardest part of my job is getting kids to cooperate. And okay, yes, wrangling a toddler who's determined to eat dirt while their sibling has a meltdown about their shoes is definitely a challenge.
But honestly? The hardest part is usually getting the parents to relax. Everyone's so worried about looking perfect, about their kids behaving perfectly, about everything being perfect. Meanwhile, I'm over here knowing that the best shots are going to come when someone lets their guard down and just lives in the moment.
Also, parents tend to think I can Photoshop anything. And while yes, I can remove a lot of distractions, I cannot make your teenager look happy to be there if they're actively scowling. That's not Photoshop. That's sorcery.
Wedding clients? They think I'm going to follow them around all day, capturing every magical moment while simultaneously being completely invisible.
Which, yeah, that's kind of the job description. But it's harder than it sounds. Try being in three places at once while carrying twenty pounds of gear, not eating or peeing for eight hours, and making sure you don't miss the split-second moment when the flower girl decides to tackle the ring bearer.
Many clients also don't realize how much work happens after the shoot. They think the photos just magically appear in their inbox the next day, perfectly edited and ready to print.
When I tell them it'll be two to three weeks for a full gallery, I can almost hear the confusion through the screen.
"But you already took the pictures?"
Yes. All 800 of them. Now I need to sort through them, select the best ones, color correct them, retouch them, export them in multiple formats, organize them in a gallery, and deliver them through a professional platform. While also working my day job and shooting other sessions and maintaining some semblance of family life.
But sure, I'll have those ready tomorrow.
What I Actually Do
Here's the truth. The real, unglamorous, behind-the-scenes truth.
I spend about 20% of my time actually taking pictures.
The other 80%? It's everything else.
I answer emails at midnight because that's when I finally have time. I update my website, create blog content, post on social media, research SEO strategies, and pray that Google will bless my little photography business with some visibility.
I clean camera sensors. I organize memory cards. I back up files in three different locations because the day I don't is the day my hard drive will die and take someone's wedding photos with it. Murphy's Law is real, people.
I pose in my living room, testing light setups and trying new techniques. Carrie has walked in on me photographing a lamp more times than I can count. It's not weird. It's professional development.
I drive around looking for new locations, which sounds fun until you realize you're basically trespassing and hoping you don't get yelled at by a property owner who doesn't appreciate your artistic vision.
I edit. Oh man, do I edit. Hours upon hours in Lightroom Classic and Luminar Neo, tweaking colors and exposure and cropping and fixing that one stray hair that somehow ended up in every single shot.
Sometimes I'm at The Church at Azle with Austin, Joey, and Aris, photographing baptisms and services. People think that's easy because church is calm and peaceful. Tell that to the lighting conditions in our sanctuary. Or the toddler who decided to photobomb every single shot of the baptism.
I maintain equipment. I research new gear even though I definitely don't need it but maybe I do because what if that new lens would totally change everything?
I learn. Constantly. Photography changes so fast that if you're not staying current, you're falling behind. New techniques, new software, new trends. It never stops.
I volunteer my time and skills because my faith calls me to serve. Not every job is about the money. Some of it is about using the gifts God gave me to bless others.
I balance my full-time job with my photography business, trying to build something sustainable without burning out. It's a weird juggling act, but somehow it works.
I deal with imposter syndrome. Even after all these years, after all the happy clients and beautiful images, there's still that voice that whispers, "Are you even good enough to charge money for this?"
I create content. Blog posts like this one. Social media captions. Email newsletters. Website copy. Everything designed to connect with potential clients and build trust.
I manage finances. Pricing strategies, taxes, equipment investments, marketing budgets. Nobody dreams of being a photographer because they love spreadsheets, but here we are.
I pray. A lot. For wisdom, for creativity, for patience with difficult clients, for the ability to serve others well through this craft.
And yes, sometimes I do the fun stuff everyone imagines. I capture genuine smiles and real emotion. I freeze moments in time that families will treasure forever. I help seniors see themselves as beautiful and confident. I document love stories and family connections and milestones that matter.
Those moments make all the rest of it worth it.
The Reality Check
Look, I'm not complaining. Well, maybe a little. But honestly, I love what I do. Even the parts that drive me crazy.
The gap between what people think I do and what I actually do doesn't bother me. It's actually kind of funny. Everyone has their own perspective based on what they see, and that's okay.
What matters is that when a client gets their gallery and tears up because they finally see themselves the way others see them? That's worth it.
When a family hangs a portrait on their wall and it becomes part of their daily life, part of their home, part of their story? That's worth it.
When I capture a moment that can never be recreated, a genuine laugh or a tender glance or pure joy? That's worth it.
So yeah, my family thinks I just click buttons. My friends think I'm either a celebrity or a hobby photographer. My clients think I'm a miracle worker. And the truth is somewhere in between all of that, mixed with a healthy dose of caffeine, prayer, and the occasional existential crisis about whether I exposed that last shot correctly.
But at the end of the day, I get to create art. I get to serve people. I get to document life and love and faith and family.
Even if most people have no idea what that actually looks like behind the scenes.
And honestly? That's perfectly fine with me.
Just don't ask me to photograph your coffee mug for free.
