The Stories You Don’t See: What Happens Before the Shutter Clicks
Before I ever lift my camera, before we walk into golden hour or I give any direction, there’s always a moment—sometimes quiet, sometimes chaotic—that tells me what kind of story we’re about to tell.
You won’t see it in the final gallery. Not directly, anyway. But it’s there.
It’s in the way a mom whispers to her kid, “It’s okay, baby, just smile one time and I’ll give you a gummy.” It’s in the way a nervous fiancé takes a deep breath and says, “We’re awkward. We’ve never done this before.” Or the way someone fixes their partner’s collar, not because it’s out of place, but because they care.
These are the moments that mean the most to me—the ones that come before anything gets posed or polished.
When people book me, they’re usually a little bit nervous. And I get that. You’re letting a near-stranger into your evening, your relationship, your family dynamic. You’re trusting someone to see you—to really see you—and make something beautiful out of it. That’s no small thing.
I think that’s why I’ve learned to love the “before” so much. The part before the camera comes up. Before we find our groove. That first ten to fifteen minutes where you're fidgeting, kids are clinging, someone inevitably says “I don’t know what to do with my hands.”
That part is magic to me.
Because here’s the thing—I’m not looking for perfection. I’m looking for the in-between. And often, that starts before we even get rolling.
Brittany, Noah, & Stetson
I’ve had toddlers hand me rocks like it’s currency, and I always accept. I’ve had teenagers pretend they’re too cool, but then beam when their parents compliment them. I’ve seen couples walk in stiff, arms by their sides, and leave wrapped around each other, laughing.
That transformation never gets old.
Over time, I’ve learned how to read people in those early moments. I’ve learned how to bring calm when things feel a little chaotic, how to gently guide a moment without overtaking it, and how to just be—not hovering, not controlling, just holding space for something real to happen.
Sometimes, it’s a quiet kind of unfolding.
Sometimes it’s loud and full of movement.
Sometimes it’s messy. But all of it is worth it.
And if you’re someone who thinks, “We’re going to be your most awkward couple ever”—you’re not. I promise.
If your kid doesn’t want to participate at first, it’s okay.
If you feel like you need to perform, or act like the people you see in other galleries—please don’t. You’re not meant to be them. You’re meant to be you.
My job isn’t to make you look like someone else. It’s to help you feel safe enough to show up as you are—because that’s where the beauty is.
So, no. You probably won’t see these stories in the gallery.
But they’re there.
They’re in the way you relax into each other. In the laughter that came after a cheesy prompt. In the moment the light hit and you forgot I was even there.
That’s what I’m chasing—not just pretty photos, but something real.
It almost always starts in the “before.”
