The Downfall of Human Emotions...

I have not died. I have been so busy, and honestly I am so tired of saying busy- because it doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore. SWMCCC is quickly approaching (the end of this month) and being the Model Coordinator and Portrait Program Coordinator means lists, emails, confirmations, adjusting this, contact the instructors that, where are my light sets coming from, why won’t so and so respond to any of my 27 emails??? This only being complicated by the unwillingness of paid day job not adhering to my strict 24 hours a week requirement (usually scheduling me 28, 33, 35 hour weeks). Honestly- I don’t know why I even put in the effort there that I do given the harsh reality that I get paid $8.88 an hour- I’ve worked there will be two years in August. The new hired college kids- Making over $9.00 an hour- solely because they are college kids!! Seriously? At most they have apartment rent and MAYBE car payments… I am an adult woman with a mortgage, and bills… Whatever, right? Not like anyone will actually fix it. So I am trying to accomplish so much in such a short time frame while still trying to be a photographer, an artist, and wife.  If there were 36 hours in a day- I think I would still be almost as stressed as I am now.

Days off aren’t days off anymore. They are getting groceries, doing housework (because the Hubby is working as much but really more than I am), spending time with our pets before they forget our faces, working on SWMCCC stuff, trying to get to working on photography stuff (but usually that falls to the way side), trying to be an artist (in random free time 10 minute bursts), laundry, paperwork… blah blah blah. Adulting is hard. Never let anyone tell you differently!!

The photography thing- here’s where today’s post title comes into play. The downfall of human emotion. I am human. Worse then that- a female human. Women’s emotions get the better of them 75% of the time no matter how hard we try not to. Some of us are better at hiding it, however. I consider myself a kick ass photographer. I have two large handfuls of models and fellow photographers that would certainly agree to that above statement to some extent. So why… Why is it when two bad situations happen in one week, a day apart- I am still sitting here inside reeling from it? Questioning what I am actually doing. Should I pack up, move on, sell my gear- kinda of questioning my passion because of two assholes? 

The first asshole, just an asshole- with the artistic mindset and rationality of a fucking fruit fly. That was an insult to all bug kind, sorry. My model was awesome. The location- awesome. The prop- AMAZEBALLS!! The situation itself in which my model and I were booted after five minutes of shooting- sucked. It fucking sucked. On the way home from the location- I felt it. That seed of doubt embedding itself into the lining of my woman’s emotion center and it started growing. “Not a real photographer…” what the asshole said, repeating itself over and over and over again- each time another leaf popped out of the main stem of the monstrous weed growing in my brain. “If I was a man, with a hot model, in a car dealership taking her picture- how much you wanna bet this wouldn’t have happened? We would not have gotten booted!” the quote after being uttered from my lips was almost enough to make the model turn the car around to go kick asshole’s butt. Pop! There’s the first beautiful flower on the wicked weed of self-doubt.

It isn’t any secret I completely under value my photography and myself. I blush and kick at invisible dirt on the floor whenever someone compliments it. I feel like an eight year old wearing mommy’s shoes and dress being told I’m pretty by a grown-up. Naw…. I’m not. Hubby says- “You’re so beautiful,” all the time!! My response- “Nu-uh… I am no one special and no one in particular…” I may fake it well- pretending I have all the confidence in the world- but I don’t. While people see a talented, decent looking female photographer with awesome skills and amazing images… I see a tubby girl with no formal training that happens to be good at something with lots of smoking hot girlfriends so no one actually looks at me. Pop! Pop! Pop! Would you look at that, it’s a bouquet of evil and beautiful flowers on that self-doubt weed!!

Enter the high and mighty Facebook bully on Thursday. My model from the failed shoot in Tuesday posted the images (that I think are really darn good considering) on her model page. The only comment I saw was the one that said “Hot car. Hot girl. Horrible photographer. I wouldn’t brag about these…” That self-doubt weed? It popped an entire row of new plants and flowers, all of which start putting pressure on the rest of my brain. My model… my wonderful sweet, foul mouthed beautiful model stood up for me- putting the bully (another professional photographer) in her place. I shot off a cocky message to her- privately, when by all rights I could have gone apeshit on her publicly.

BTW- she labeled this in her FB post as “an attack”… Me- “While I appreciate everyone has an opinion… before you pass judgment on all my work based on a few pictures from a failed shoot, maybe understand that I did what I could with what minimal gear I was allowed to bring into that dealership-a camera, a reflector, and a flash fill light. So thanks for saying I am a horrible photographer- please don’t trouble yourself with taking a look at my professional website or my artist page on Facebook. I will be sure to add you to my list of haters- eventually I will make everyone tee shirts.”
Her- “I don’t know you.”
Me- “I’m the horrible photographer
Her- “Why are you so defensive? I was giving you an honest critique…”
 No- a critique would have been, ill lighting, bad pose posture… (not actually said, just thought) “Horrible photographer. I wouldn’t brag about these…” that’s a fucking insult you bullying bitch.

Now my self-doubt garden (no longer just one weed) has taken over everything, squeezing the life out of all rational thought sensors, strangling what’s left of my will to ever pick up my camera again. I have a shoot tonight. I have great models lined up in my studio. If anyone can boost my spirits and coax my mojo out from behind the hedge row of thorny pretty self-doubt flowers- they will certainly give it a try. I hate that I am so willing to doubt myself and my ability. I hate that one mindless- brave as all hell thunderc**t with a keyboard can make me feel like throwing all my camera gear in front of an Amtrack train.

If you don’t like something you see on social media- keep scrolling on by for the love of God. Don’t comment, don’t be mean, do not be a dick. Ugh…. I feel like shit again. Still. I think I am going to hop into the shower, scrub off my bad mood and pray for an emotional up-tick before my shoot tonight. If this shoot tonight doesn’t help me withdraw from my shell of self-loathing- I might as well hang up my Canon powered spurs until after SWMCCC. I’d at least get to catch up on my photo editing…

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post- hopefully full of happy stories and pretty pictures!!!


  1. Read this with great interest. Let's start off by saying I've probably been a "photographer" longer than you have been alive and that is not to brag but only to say that I'm old :) I've been in the same "situation" as you and all I can tell you is what I learned is that if you are happy with your images than nothing else matters. I really don't care what people think of my images I'm not taking the images to make them happy. The only exception to this would be if your paid then is the client happy. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and some people's critique is another person's insult. I've had my images "ripped" and in some ways was the image technically a good image probably not but I still like it because I don't care. HUG I'll give the "real" hug when I see you at SWMCCC!!! :) Nelson


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