When I first started this business, I was charging $50 a session with absolutely no plan beyond, “I’d love to see if I can do this.”
No roadmap. No systems. No business training. Just heart, curiosity and a camera.
A few short years later, I’m deeply grateful for where I am — photographing families and newborns across Atlanta, documenting some of the most meaningful seasons of people’s lives.
And still, as 2025 comes to a close, I can see clearly what no longer serves me, my family or the work I want to create.
I went to school for art, y’all. Not business.
And while taking photos might look like the job from the outside, it’s maybe 10% of what running a photography business actually requires. The rest is systems, communication, finances, workflow, boundaries and strategy. It’s where so many photographers struggle, especially in the early years.
For a long time, I’ve felt like I was treading water — especially during busy season — reacting instead of building. Saying yes without a plan. Working hard but without enough structure to support healthy growth. (Exhaustion is fertile ground for negative thought patterns and burnout.)
In 2026, that changes.
I’m coming into this year with intention. I’m investing in my business, working with a mentor and focusing on building something sustainable and meaningful — something with legacy. Not just for my work as an Atlanta newborn and family photographer, but for my family too. I missed my babies so much this past fall.
Structure doesn’t kill creativity. It protects it.
If you’re a photographer and you find yourself scrolling Instagram or Facebook thinking, “Why can’t I be that busy?” or “Why can’t I be that good?” — here’s my unpopular opinion:
Unfollow.
Unless you’re in a space of mutual support, encouragement and growth, comparison is poison. I’ve lived in that cycle more times than I’d like to admit.
Busyness is not a badge of honor. Sacrifice does not prove worth.
If I’m too tired to pour into my own people, I shouldn’t be prioritizing pouring into others. Full stop.
Those thought patterns — the ones that fueled burnout and erased margin, especially during fall busy season — are staying in 2025.
When you’re starting a business, any paying client feels like the right client.
I get it. I’ve lived it. Many days, I’m still there.
But there comes a point where experience teaches you something important: just because the work pays doesn’t mean it’s the work for you.
That school project that took days of work for very little return?
The frenetic, back-to-back mini sessions themed for every season of the year where I never learn anyone’s name?
The random team photography gigs that pull me far from the work I love?
It’s time to let those go.
If the work doesn’t bring joy and doesn’t financially support the work that does — whether that’s investing in education, outsourcing what I hate or yes, buying beautiful newborn props — it’s not for me anymore.
And what a gift the space this opens up will be – a gift of time I can give back to my family, a gift of space to dream in my business, a gift of margin to give back to my community and offer things for free or cheap when and where I want (not because I feel like I should or I have to) … a gift of breathing room.
At the heart of it all, I’m leaving behind:
Chaos
Overwhelm
… and maybe a quiet fear that if I don’t say yes to everything, my business won’t survive
The fear that if I’m not available 15 hours a day, 7 days a week, the growth will stop.
Instead, I’m refocusing.
On what makes me who I am.
On what makes me a present wife and mother.
On what allows me to truly connect with the families I serve.
On creating space for joy, intention and meaningful work.
I’m holding onto big hope for 2026 — and I’m excited to see what grows when fear steps aside and purpose takes the lead.
