I used to see other photographers as threats.


Every time someone new popped up in my area, I'd feel this knot in my stomach. Another person taking potential clients. Another feed to compare myself to. Another reason to worry that there wasn't enough work to go around.


And honestly? It made photography lonely.


Here's what I'm learning though: we're not in competition. Even when it feels like we are. Even when you're just starting out, trying to get your first client, and it definitely doesn't feel like there are enough people to go around.


Because let me be real with you: when you're beginning, when your portfolio is thin and your experience is limited and you're practically begging people to let you photograph them, it absolutely feels like every other photographer is standing between you and the work you desperately need.


I get it. I've been there. I am there some days.


But here's what I'm starting to understand: the photographer down the street isn't your competition. They're capturing memories for families who might not vibe with your style. And yeah, right now when you're hungry for any client at all, that's hard to hear. It feels like you'd take anyone who'd book you.


But even in the beginning, even when it doesn't feel like it yet, God is putting specific people in your path. Ephesians 2:10 tells us we are "created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."


That means the clients you're supposed to serve? God already prepared that connection. Before you even picked up a camera. Before they even knew they needed a photographer. He was already orchestrating it.


The family that books with you needs YOU specifically. Not because you're the most experienced or the most booked or have the fanciest gear. They need you because God orchestrated that connection for reasons you might not see yet.


And the family that books with someone else? As much as it stings when you need the work, maybe they weren't supposed to be yours. Maybe you weren't the right fit. Maybe God's protecting you from something. Maybe He's saving your limited time and energy for the clients who will actually become the foundation of your business.


Proverbs 19:21 says "Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand."


I can plan and hustle and strategize all I want. But ultimately, if God's purpose for my business looks different than my plans, His purpose is the one that's going to stand. And maybe that means trusting Him with the bookings instead of resenting other photographers for getting them.


I know that's hard to believe when your inbox is empty and you're watching everyone else post about their sessions. When it feels like there's this finite number of families who need photos and everyone else already claimed them.


But here's the thing: God didn't give us all the same eye. He didn't make us all shoot the same way, edit the same way, or connect with people the same way. And that's on purpose.


First Corinthians talks about the body of Christ having different parts, all necessary, all valuable. "The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I have no need of you.'" We each have different gifts, different callings, different purposes. And photography is no different.


Even when you're starting out, even when you're still figuring out your style, there's something unique about how you see the world. Something that will resonate with certain people and not others. And that's okay. That's actually beautiful when you think about it.


I think about it like this: when I'm standing in front of a family, trying to capture their story, I'm not thinking about any other photographer. I'm present. I'm focused on them. I'm doing what God created me to do in that specific moment with those specific people.


So why do I spend the rest of my time worried about everyone else?


Why do I waste energy seeing them as threats instead of celebrating that they're out there doing the same sacred work I am?


We're all trying to capture love. Connection. Memory. The way a grandmother looks at her grandbaby. The way a senior's face lights up when they finally see themselves as beautiful. The way a family fits together even when they're messy and imperfect.


That's holy work, brother. We're documenting imago dei—the image of God in people. Every face we photograph bears His likeness. Every family we capture reflects His design for relationship and love.


And there's room for all of us to do it. Even if it doesn't feel like it yet.


I'm trying to shift my mindset. When I see another photographer's work now, I'm practicing saying "that's beautiful" instead of "why can't I do that?" When someone new starts up in my area, I'm trying to think "welcome" instead of "great, more competition."


It's not easy. Especially when you're struggling to get booked. The scarcity mindset runs deep when you're living in actual scarcity. But I'm starting to believe that celebrating other photographers doesn't diminish me. It actually makes the whole community stronger.


Because when we lift each other up, when we share knowledge instead of hoarding it, when we refer clients to each other because someone else's style is a better fit, we're reflecting Christ. We're showing that there's a different way to do business. One that doesn't require stepping on each other to get ahead.


Jesus said the world would know we're His disciples by our love for one another. Not by our booking calendars. Not by our Instagram followers. By our love.


What if the photography community actually looked like that? What if we loved each other well enough that people noticed?


Proverbs 27:17 says "Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another."


We're supposed to make each other better. Not tear each other down out of fear and insecurity.


SO HERE'S WHAT I'M TRYING TO DO DIFFERENTLY:


When I see beautiful work, I tell them. A simple "this is gorgeous" goes further than you think. And maybe, just maybe, they'll remember you when they get a client inquiry that's not the right fit for them.


When someone asks for advice, I give it freely. What do I lose by sharing what I've learned? Nothing. What do they gain? Maybe the encouragement to keep going. Maybe they'll return the favor one day when you need it.


Luke 6:38 says "Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you."


When a client isn't the right fit for me, I refer them to someone whose style matches what they're looking for. Because it's not about me getting every booking. It's about families getting the photographer they need. And building that kind of trust in the community? It comes back around.


And when I'm tempted to compare, I remind myself that we're running different races with different purposes, and God's got enough blessing for all of us. Even when my bank account says otherwise.


Philippians 4:19 promises that "my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus." Not according to how many other photographers are in my area. Not according to whether I'm as good as everyone else. According to His riches.


That's a God who owns the cattle on a thousand hills. A God who fed five thousand with a kid's lunch. A God who can provide for me and every other photographer trying to make it, without running out of resources.


This photography thing is hard enough without making enemies out of people who are fighting the same battles we are. The late nights. The slow seasons. The self-doubt. The struggle to price ourselves fairly. The exhaustion of pouring into everyone else's memories while building our own businesses.


The desperate feeling when you're just starting out and wondering if anyone will ever book you at all.


We're all out here trying to glorify God with a camera and serve people well. That makes us family, not competition. We're brothers and sisters in Christ before we're anything else.


So if you're reading this and you're another photographer in my area, or anywhere really, especially if you're just starting out and it feels impossible: I'm rooting for you. I hope you get your first client, then your second, then your tenth. I hope your clients love their images. I hope you're charging what you're worth and taking care of yourself and remembering why you started.


Your success doesn't threaten mine. Your gifts don't diminish mine. Your calling is yours, and mine is mine, and God's working in both our timelines even when we can't see it.


Romans 8:28 reminds us that "for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose."


All things. Even the slow seasons. Even the clients who book someone else. Even the struggle to get started. God's working it all together for good.


We're not competition.


We're community.


And maybe if we started acting like it, this whole thing would feel a lot less lonely and a lot more like the kingdom work it's supposed to be.


Even in the beginning. Especially in the beginning.