My Journey to Confidence as a Photographer
I didn’t always call myself an artist.
In fact, for a long time, I kept that part of myself hidden—doubting whether what I created had value, unsure of how to define myself in the world of photography. I knew I loved taking pictures. I felt something when I did. But I also felt like an outsider—someone with more questions than confidence.
Looking back, I realize this was never about technique. It was about trust. Trusting my own way of seeing.
The Beginning: A Camera and a Question
I grew up in Germany, and when I was twelve years old, I received my first camera. I can still remember the thrill of holding it in my hands. But I also remember the frustration—I didn’t know how to work it, and I didn’t have the patience to learn. So I gave up… or at least, that’s what I thought.
In reality, the seed had been planted.
I always had the desire to create something meaningful. To translate the beauty I saw into images that felt alive. But I didn’t yet know how to connect the technical with the emotional. And I definitely didn’t think I had what it took to call myself a photographer.
The Turning Point
Everything changed the day I flew into Salt Lake City to attend my first photography conference, ClickAway.
I didn’t know a single person there, and my confidence was still shaky. But as the weekend unfolded, I found myself surrounded by people who spoke the same creative language. Women who loved light and story and feeling, just like I did. Some were highly skilled; others were just starting out. But no one was competing. Everyone was connecting.
It felt like someone had opened a door I didn’t know existed—and on the other side was a world where my photography did belong.
That weekend, I stopped seeing myself as an amateur trying to catch up. I started seeing myself as an artist.
ClickAway 2015, San Antonio, TX, Lucy and I
What I’ve Learned Since
Since that moment, I’ve embraced the fact that my work is emotional. It’s intuitive. It’s not always technically perfect—but it’s deeply felt. I’m drawn to softness, to movement, to light that spills and streaks and leaks in unexpected ways.
That’s why I fell in love with Lensbaby. Their gear helped me lean into the exact things I used to try and correct. Blur, imperfection, abstraction—they weren’t flaws. They were a way of speaking my visual truth.
That love led me to where I am now:
A creative photographer specializing in emotional storytelling
A workshop teacher and community builder
A writer and guide for others learning to trust their vision
Final Thoughts
It took me years to realize that there is no single definition of what makes a “real” photographer. You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need all the gear. You don’t even need a grand plan.
What you do need is permission. To play. To explore. To make mistakes and try again.
And if you’re anything like me, you might also need community. People who see what you’re trying to say—before you even know how to say it yourself.
This blog is part of that permission. It’s the story of how I found my creative voice. If you’re still finding yours, know that you’re not alone—and that you already have everything you need to begin.
Gliding through calm waters, this seagull captures the essence of mindful photography—where peace, presence, and creativity meet. Shot with Lensbaby OMNI filters, it reflects my journey of finding beauty in every moment.
Let’s Stay Connected
Are you on a creative journey of your own? I’d love to hear about it.
Come say hi on Instagram @californialover, join my free Facebook group Develop with Light, or browse through my workshops and blog posts to find something that sparks you forward.