I’m Not Photogenic. Okay. Let’s Talk About That.

“I’m not photogenic.”

I hear this all the damn time.

And honestly?

I get it.

I truly get it.

Because I say it about myself, too.

I would much rather be the person holding the camera during a group photo. I want control of the angle. I want to see the screen. I want to move the phone until I find the one angle where my face cooperates.

Because I've seen the photos other people take of me.

You know the ones.

The candid your mom takes where your double chin has apparently decided to triple in size.

The photo your spouse takes when you're sitting completely slouched over and every roll you forgot existed is suddenly on full display playing with your kid(s).

The picture where you're laughing, your mouth is wide open, your eyes are half closed, your hair is doing something absolutely disrespectful, and you're thinking:

“OH MY GOSH. DELETE THAT.”

Meanwhile, the person who took it is looking at that exact same photograph thinking:

“Look at my beautiful daughter laughing with her husband.”
“Look at my beautiful family playing together.”

Reality check...

That's exactly what happened to me.

I have literally looked at a photo my mom took of me laughing and said:

“DELETE THAT FUCKING PICTURE RIGHT NOW. PLEASEEEE.”

Sorry again, Mom.

But WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

There was no jawline. None. Gone.

I looked like my neck had swallowed my face.

And she wasn't thinking about my double chin.

She was seeing a moment.

She was seeing me laughing.

She was seeing something she loved.

And that's the thing about those “unphotogenic” photographs.

There is always beauty in them…

But we immediately notice the things we're already insecure about.

The chin.

The stomach.

The arms.

The nose.

The skin.

The way we sit.

The way we laugh.

Whatever little thing our brain has decided is unacceptable that day.

But the person behind the camera may be seeing something completely different:

The emotion.

The connection.

The laughter.

The story.

And sometimes all of that can exist in a photograph that isn't particularly flattering.

So what does that have to do with boudoir?

Everything.

Because when you tell me:

“Angela, I'm not photogenic.”

I'm not going to tell you to just love yourself more.

I'm not going to throw some inspirational quote at you and tell you you're beautiful.

(But b*tch, you are.)

And I'm definitely not going to expect you to magically know what the hell to do with your hands.

That's my job.

When someone walks into my studio convinced they're awkward in front of a camera, I usually see the same things during those first few poses.

You freeze.

You overthink.

You ask if you're doing it right.

You hold your breath.

You stiffen up.

You apologize for being awkward.

You're trying so hard to perform the pose correctly that you're no longer actually in the moment.

That's why I start simple.

I get you into the position from head to toe.

Pop your hip here.

Bend your knee this way.

Point those toes.

Then we work with your arms, shoulders, hands and expression.

And eventually?

I put the camera down.

Completely down.

I ask you to focus on me.

This is where things change.

We breathe together.

I'll soften my voice and guide your breathing.

I'll have you follow the movement of my hands.

Then we'll add emotion.

A slow inhale.

A deep exhale.

Your hands moving softly over your own body.

Your shoulders releasing.

Your eyes closing.

Your body responding to your breath instead of trying to “pose.”

I'm watching for the moment that your wall starts to come down.

Because I can usually see it.

There is a point where you stop trying to figure out whether you're doing it right.

You stop performing.

You stop watching yourself.

And you just...

feel.

That's when I pick the camera back up.

And sometimes the first thing I hear when I show you the back of my camera is:

“OH SHIT.”

Followed by:

“That's ME?”

Yep.

That's you.

And THAT is the moment I love.

Because you can see that following my direction didn't make you look forced or fake.

It looks natural.

Connected.

Intimate.

It looks like you.

And yes... I still take “bad” pictures.

I'm not going to sit here and pretend every single frame I take is magically photogenic.

It isn't.

I get the double chin.

I get the mid-blink.

I get the weird laugh.

I get the moment where a negative thought sneaks in and suddenly your entire expression changes.

Sometimes we laugh about it.

Sometimes we delete it.

And sometimes I can see you're starting to feel defeated.

That's when we stop.

We reset.

Maybe the pose doesn't feel right.

Maybe your body isn't comfortable.

Maybe you're thinking too much.

Maybe we just need to do something completely different.

And when we nail it, I'm showing you that camera again.

“SEE? You're doing it.”

“You're killing it.”

“You look fucking amazing.”

Because sometimes you need to see it before your brain will believe me.

Being photogenic doesn't mean you never take a bad picture.

Let's be real.

If we all took our phones and held them like a toddler under our chins and took a picture...

I don't know a single person who would look at it and say:

“Damn. I look GOOD.”

No.

We'd be looking at the giant head.

The double chin.

The view straight up our nose.

The angle that makes absolutely no sense.

And we'd delete that shit immediately.

The angle matters.

Lighting matters.

Composition matters.

Posing matters.

Movement matters.

And the photographer's ability to see you matters.

And I SEE YOU.

But you also aren't going to love every single photograph I take.

And that's okay.

It will never hurt my feelings.

Your favorite image might be completely different from mine. Sometimes I see something more artistic or emotional in an image that you didn't initially notice.

The goal isn't for you to love every single frame.

It's for you to look through your gallery and realize:

“Holy shit. I actually love myself in these.”

I'm not here to erase the parts of you that you don't love.

A good boudoir photographer shouldn't be trying to turn you into someone else.

We're not pretending your insecurities don't exist.

We're learning how to photograph you.

If you love your eyes, let's let them shine.

If you love your curves, let's use them.

If you love your legs, let's show them.

And if there are parts you're less comfortable with?

They don't have to become the center of attention.

We're not hiding you.

We're intentionally showing you.

Because when the things you love become the things your eye notices first, that little:

“Ugh, I hate my ______.”

can start becoming:

“Damn. Look at this/that.”

And that's a very different feeling.

So, if you've been telling yourself you're not photogenic...

Maybe you've never been particularly photogenic for your mom's iPhone.

Maybe your spouse really is terrible at finding your good angle or timing the photo right to capture the moment and still make it magazine-worthy.

Maybe your friends catch you mid-sneeze more often than they'd like to admit.

😂

But none of that means you're incapable of being photographed beautifully.

You don't have to walk into a boudoir session already confident.

You don't have to know how to pose.

You don't have to know where to put your hands.

You don't even have to know what your “good side” is.

That's my job.

My job is to guide you, watch your body language, work the light, and help you get out of your head long enough to actually experience the moment.

And because you're trusting me with something incredibly vulnerable, your comfort matters just as much as the photograph.

I will always ask before touching you, your hair, your clothing, your strap, or making a physical adjustment.

Because your body is yours.

Always.

And once you feel safe enough to stop overthinking every little thing, you can finally just be in it.

You get to breathe.

You get to move.

You get to feel beautiful without picking yourself apart.

And somewhere in that process, you get that little bit of freedom that comes from letting yourself be seen exactly as you are.

That's the part I want you to take home with you.