When Creating Started Feeling Like Content

Firstly, I didn’t write this for attention, or because I have all the answers. I think I just needed somewhere to get a few things off my chest that I’ve been carrying for a while.

And maybe, if you’re another creative trying to navigate this strange space between creating, running a business and constantly feeling like you need to show up online, some of this will feel familiar to you too.

More than anything, I hope you read this and realise you’re not the only one who feels this way. 🤎

I’ve been a little quiet online lately.

Not intentionally. There wasn’t a moment where I decided I was taking a break from Instagram or stepping away from my business.

I just stopped wanting to post.

For a while, I thought maybe I’d lost some of my motivation. Maybe I was burnt out. Maybe after doing this for so long, photography just didn’t excite me in the same way anymore.

But then I’d pick up my camera.

And I’d still love it.

I’d photograph a family and notice the tiny moments happening between the ones we were actually trying to capture.

I’d photograph a new mum holding her baby and immediately see something I wanted to preserve.

I’d sit down to edit an image I loved and still get that feeling I’ve always had.

And eventually I realised something.

I wasn’t tired of photography.

I was tired of feeling like everything surrounding photography needed to become content.

Somewhere along the way, things changed

When I started photography, being a photographer online felt quite simple.

Create work you loved.

Share it.

Build a portfolio.

People would find your photographs, connect with them and hopefully think, I want her to photograph my family.

Of course there was still marketing involved. I was still running a business.

But I remember feeling like my job was primarily to become a better photographer.

Learn.

Experiment.

Find my style.

Understand light.

Connect with people.

Create photographs that actually made somebody feel something.

Social media has changed enormously since then.

Now, sometimes it feels like being a good photographer is only half the job.

The other half is being a content creator.

The person behind the camera

We’re constantly told that people don’t just want to see our work anymore.

They want to know us.

And I understand why.

Photography is incredibly personal.

People trust me with their pregnancies, their newborn babies, their families and their homes.

They stand in front of my camera when they might already feel vulnerable or uncomfortable being photographed.

Of course I want my clients to know something about the woman behind that camera.

I want you to feel like you know me a little before we meet.

I want you to feel comfortable.

There is something really beautiful about that connection.

But somewhere along the way, showing a little of the person behind the business started to feel like something else entirely.

Show your face.

Film your coffee.

Film yourself editing.

Talk to the camera.

Share your morning.

Show behind the scenes.

Make the Reel.

Tell the story.

Post consistently.

Stay relevant.

And then somehow…

find enough creativity left to actually create.

I thought I had to do all of it

A while ago, I invested thousands of dollars into learning how to grow my business.

And I want to be really clear about something.

I learned a lot.

There are things I took from that education that I still use in my business today, and investing in education has absolutely helped me grow.

But it also left me feeling incredibly overwhelmed.

There were so many things I felt like I was supposed to be doing.

Showing more of myself.

Talking to camera.

Creating certain types of content.

Being consistent.

Building a personal brand.

And because I had spent thousands learning these things, there was this little voice in my head saying:

Well, you paid for this. You need to do what they're telling you.

So I tried.

And yes, sometimes running a business means stepping outside your comfort zone.

I've done that countless times.

Growth can be uncomfortable.

Putting yourself out there can be uncomfortable.

Trying something new can be uncomfortable.

But I've started asking myself:

To what extent?

At what point does stepping outside your comfort zone stop being growth and start becoming forcing yourself to run your business like somebody else?

Because those aren't necessarily the same thing.

And then I realised something that sounds ridiculously obvious.

I'm the boss.

I built my own business.

I chose this.

So why was I suddenly feeling like I had to run it according to somebody else's rules?

Paying for someone's knowledge doesn't mean I have to implement every piece of it.

I can learn from people I respect.

I can take the strategies that make sense for my business.

I can try things that scare me.

I can push myself.

And I can still say, this part isn't for me.

I get to decide what I share.

I get to decide how much of myself stays private.

I get to decide what I post.

And I get to decide when I post it.

That isn't refusing to grow.

It's choosing what kind of business I actually want to run.

When sharing started feeling like performing

I think this is where I started feeling exhausted.

Sometimes I don't want to pick up my phone.

Sometimes I don't want to think about whether something would make a good Reel.

Sometimes I don't want to film myself doing something while I'm doing it.

Sometimes…

I just want to pick up my camera.

There have been moments where I've been doing something I genuinely enjoy and part of my brain has immediately gone:

Should I film this?

Should I put this on Stories?

Could this become content?

And I don't like that feeling.

Because suddenly you're not completely experiencing the moment anymore.

You're looking at your own life through the lens of whether it's worth posting.

And that's when another question started creeping in.

Are people here because they connect with my work?

Or because social media has created an expectation that we should constantly have access to the people we follow?

The answer is probably somewhere in the middle.

I love that clients connect with me personally.

Some families have trusted me to photograph them again and again. I've watched babies become toddlers and families grow.

Those relationships mean an enormous amount to me.

But as a creative, I also want my work to be enough sometimes.

I want someone to look at a photograph I've created and feel something.

I want a mother to see one of my images and think:

That's how I want to remember this.

I don't think she needs to know what I ate for breakfast that morning for that photograph to mean something.

So I went quiet

There wasn't some dramatic decision to leave social media.

I just stopped feeling like participating in it.

I'd open Instagram and think, I should probably post something.

And then I'd close it.

I'd think about making a Reel and immediately feel exhausted by the thought of it.

So I didn't.

But behind the quiet, I was still creating.

Still photographing.

Still noticing beautiful light.

Still getting excited about an image.

Still loving what I do.

And that's when everything finally clicked.

I wasn't burnt out from photography.

I was burnt out from feeling like photography constantly needed to produce content.

There is a difference.

Finding my way back

So that's where I've been.

Not gone.

Not giving up.

Definitely not falling out of love with photography.

Actually, quite the opposite.

I think I've been trying to find my way back to the part of this that I loved in the first place.

Creating.

Photographing real people.

Noticing the little things.

Making something that means something.

And allowing some moments to simply exist without wondering how I can package them for the internet.

I don't know exactly what that means for how I show up online from here.

Maybe I'll post less.

Maybe it'll be less perfectly planned.

I'll probably be inconsistent.

Maybe sometimes I'll share a photograph simply because I love the photograph.

Not because it fits into a content pillar.

Not because I need to post that day.

Not because an algorithm is expecting something from me.

Just because I made something I'm proud of and I want you to see it.

I'll still share pieces of myself.

You'll still get to know the person behind the camera.

That connection matters to me.

But I'm learning that I can let people know me without giving the internet every part of myself.

And maybe my photographs tell you something about me too.

Maybe they always have.

So for now...

Less performing.

Less pressure.

More photography.

More creating.

More of the work that actually means something to me.

And I think I'm okay with that. 🤎