Comparison is the thief of joy.

Comparison: noun.
"The consideration or estimate of the similarities or dissimilarities between two things or people."

So. Steaming hot plate of feelings comin' atcha.

I had this whole post ready to publish, about how comparing your accomplishments to others' work can really rob you of the pride you feel in yourself. This is a concept that I have struggled with both in my personal and professional lives. The prevalence of social media has given us all the previously-unknown opportunity to take a peek into other peoples' previously unseen moments. I've learned that we share our highlights, not our worsts, and that comparing my humdrum to someone else's most exciting moment is quite an unhealthy habit. 

If you've been following me and my business page, you know that I'm happily participating in the Shoot & Share contest for the first time since 2020, when we were deep in the pandemic and I was worried my brand new baby business would never have a chance to get off the ground. Both this year and in 2020, I was what they all "all-in", meaning I'd entered the max of 50 photos in the competition, dispersed among many categories from toddlers to brides to a fun grouping called "That Just Happened."

When I entered the first time, in 2020, I had shot exactly one wedding and the majority of my entries were of my own children. I didn't know what to expect and then, in the voting - which takes forever because it's 12 rounds - I started to feel really defeated and inferior. I was looking at the work of seasoned photographers, with drone footage, and these incredible styled shoots in exotic, incredible locations, thinking that what I was doing was the same as what they were doing. Why didn't my work look like that?? 

This year, the same thing started to happen - I was talking down to myself internally -and I had to stop myself. I have a choice in how I look at these things. I can look at this and think to myself that I'm not good enough, certainly. That's the natural reaction, to let the imposter syndrome sneak in and settle comfortably, taking up space and draining my confidence. 

Or. 

This morning I started to see these unbelievable photographs of brides with windswept hair in the middle of the Grand Canyon, looking like they had to be shot from a friggin helicopter, and think to myself, "wow, how fun would it be to get to do that?!" And suddenly I didn't feel like my work was less than, I felt inspired and encouraged and reminded of the fact that we are all growing in our work. We all started someplace. Many creatives burn out and go back to a life where a weekly paycheck is guaranteed and people won't criticize your blood, sweat, and tears on the internet. The rest of us will continue to push forward, expanding our portfolios, satiating our curiosity with classes and new techniques and concepts, finding ways to satisfy our creative hunger while also paying the bills.

I choose to be the latter. I choose to be brave and stand strong in my belief that I am capable and talented. Maybe I'll be able to look at my body of work someday and feel like I succeeded, but until then, I'll just keep trying to make each shoot just a little better than the last, to make each client a little happier than the client before. 

No more comparisons, just inspirations.