Dear friend,
Let’s talk.
I know you’ve said it before, maybe just in passing or with a laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes: “I’m not photogenic.”
It’s a little phrase, isn’t it? But it carries so much weight. It’s the way you step back when someone pulls out a camera. It’s the side of your face you’re always angling to hide. It’s the feeling that somehow, in the split-second flash of a lens, the world might see you the way you’ve learned to see yourself—through a lens that feels too sharp… too unforgiving.
But here’s the truth I need you to hear: you are enough, exactly as you are.
When you look at a photo of yourself, what are you really looking for? Perfection? Some flawless version of you that doesn’t exist because it was never supposed to? What if instead of critiquing the curve of your smile or the way your hair falls out of place, you saw what I see—the warmth in your eyes, the life in your laugh, the stories etched into the corners of your being?
Being photogenic isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being you. It’s about showing up as the person who laughs a little too loud, who hugs a little too long, who lights up the lives of everyone lucky enough to know them.
… “you are enough, exactly as you are.”
Maybe no one ever told you this before, so let me say it now: the way you are right now—the way you smile when you think no one’s looking, the way your eyes crinkle when you’re really, really happy—that’s what makes you photogenic. That’s what makes you you.
I know what it’s like to want to hide, to wish the camera could somehow capture a version of yourself you feel is better, brighter, more beautiful. But I also know what it’s like to let go of that. To just be present in the moment, no filters, no second-guessing. And let me tell you, those are the moments where the magic happens.
So, I want to encourage you: step in front of the lens. Whether it’s for a professional photoshoot or a quick snapshot with friends, be brave enough to let yourself be seen. You’re not just a collection of angles and lighting; you’re a story. A beautiful, messy, real story worth remembering.
And if you ever feel nervous or unsure, I’ll be there, cheering you on from behind the camera. Because my job, my honor, is to capture the person you are—not the person you think you should be.
You are worthy. You are beautiful. You are enough.
With love and belief in you,
Bryant
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