Finding My Focus: Building Confidence to Chase Photography Dreams…again.

“Is something wrong with me? Is there something I’m missing here?”

Two years ago, I couldn’t have dreamed that I would be taking my photography passion full-time. Now, I’m sitting in my home office—the sound of a nasally preschooler’s cough echoing from the other room—reflecting on these thoughts that once ran through my head.

I didn’t think it was possible, but I found myself in a place where I was equal parts fulfilled and equal parts unfulfilled. On one hand I had the most love-filled life with three beautiful babies (a cheeky 3-year old + 1-year old twins = maximum fulfillment). On the other hand, I had this feeling of emptiness. Like a part of me was gone. Or at least hidden away.

I’m sure every new mom reaches a point where they look at their life and think, is this it? Is this who I am? A wife? A mom? Another number in corporate America? It ended up being these thoughts that would give me the courage to start over as a photographer.

Purple camera sparks a love of photography

I remember the day I experienced my first spark of excitement for photography. I was 10 years old riding on a boat to Anacapa Island. It was our class field trip and I brought my Vivitar Brites purple film camera with me. It was radical, clearly. We were driving around Arch Rock and I thought, “I HAVE to get a picture of this.” Being on a rocking boat with 43 other 5th graders, I knew my timing had to be spot on. 

Spoiler alert: my timing was spot on…which I discovered only approximately 3-5 weeks later after I developed the film. I got Arch Rock…“awesome.”

That anxious slash excited feeling of wondering if you got the shot and not being able to find out instantly is a feeling like no other. It’s a shame that kids today (what am I, 89?) don’t understand that feeling of wondering if you got ‘the shot’ and not being able to find out for weeks.

My new passion was largely redirected to motion video—8mm tape being my first love. I took true joy in making homemade videos—or ‘commercials,’ as we used to call them. Planning out and capturing all the shots in the scene with my friends. Showcasing our masterpiece to others (i.e. our parents) who ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed.’ Glorious. 

This unique love of movie making translated over to college where I studied and got my degree in Film & Video Production, and later returned to study professional still photography. 

When dreams take a detour

Post college I had a small photography business for a short time, mainly shooting portraits for family and friends, some headshots for my dad’s company, and some events here and there. But it quickly faded away into a pipe dream. I redirected my focus into my corporate career and later my family life and raising my kids.

I was feeling extreme happiness raising my kids: the highs. And extreme monotony in my corporate job: the lows. At first I thought it must be normal to feel sad and empty at my corporate job now that I had kids, simply because I was missing them. But I didn’t know if this was just part of the gig of being a working mom or if something more was missing. Enter the thoughts. “Is something wrong with me? Is there something I’m missing here?”.

Motherhood: my unexpected superpower

The reason becoming a mother is so scary at first is because it’s the unknown. Nothing can really prepare you for the experience because no two people or babies are the same. I had many moments of complete terror. In the hospital, for example, when my husband went downstairs to pull the car around and left me alone with a newborn for the very first time: Sheer. Panic. Or when the doctor uttered the words ‘you’re going to have twins‘: Utter. Shock.

What motherhood has given me is the confidence to know that I can get through anything, no matter how scary it is. Before if something was scary? Simple, I would just avoid it. But when you’re a mom, there’s no avoiding it. You have to put your fears aside and take it all head-on. 

What really started to shift after I had kids was my perception of time. When it was just me, time was an elusive idea. Nothing more than a tool to gauge when my work shift was over and the weekend shenanigans would commence.

Once you have kids and have the opportunity to watch them grow, you are suddenly very aware of how fast time is going. I can now really stand by that popular parenthood saying: “the days are long, but the years are short.” Seriously though. I feel like I blinked, and in that instant, my first born went from newborn to kindergartner. 

Once I became acutely aware of the time slipping away, I knew that there was no time like the present to get back into photography. If not now, then when? 

Motherhood gave me the confidence to face my fears, but it also reignited something else: the dream I’d tucked away. Little did I know, those first shaky moments of parenthood were preparing me for a bold leap back into photography.

The courage to start over

I always took pride in my corporate career. Whether working in television after film school or at the corporate offices of a bank, I was always committed to climbing the ladder in every role I held. However, becoming a mother marked a significant shift in how I viewed my job and my time. Suddenly, the passion I had for my career began to fade, overshadowed by the joy and fulfillment I found in raising my children.

It all clicked one night: If I was going to spend time away from my kids, I wanted it to be doing work that truly ignited my passion and made my heart sing.

That night, I was doing some casual late-night Instagram browsing and I was somewhat intrigued (who am I kidding? I was a LOT intrigued) when I came across an online photography course called The Photographer’s Path started by Nicole L. Hill, a fashion photographer I followed. I discovered that she had gone to photography school around the same time I did, and now she had opened her own school. Cue the comparison-itis.

At first I thought it was silly to take a photography course considering I’d already been through school many moons ago. Then I thought about how behind I felt. It had been years since I’d been in the game.

I browsed through the course a bit more and came across Nicole’s words “No one should ever question following their dreams,” followed by “You are the only person who has the power to change your life.” Something clicked. I ran it by my husband who, to my surprise, immediately thought it was a great idea. Did he also know that my dream had been sitting dormant?

And that was it! Student mode was under way. That course that I took 2 years ago catapulted me right back into photog mode, but not without the dreaded thoughts making their appearance yet again.

Was signing up for a photography course admitting defeat that I had failed all those years before? Maybe. Was it a little embarrassing to start over just as I was starting to push 40? I think 15-year-ago-me would have said ‘yes,’ but post-corporate-America+motherhood me says ‘nope!’ 

What I learned from “the big pause”

It’s easy and even tempting to write off my 15-year photography hiatus as time lost. Years diverted away from my career dreams and down the drain. I always felt like I gave up on myself and was settling into the life I thought I deserved–but I eventually discovered that wasn’t the case at all.

I’ve learned that when we go off-path in life, we’re not actually going off-path at all. We’re creating new paths. Even when the path detours and it feels like we’re moving backwards or not moving at all, we’re not. Every experience and every moment spent on the path is time spent molding and growing us into the person we’re meant to become. 

There’s a reason 15-year-ago-me quit and it’s because I wasn’t ready. Like it or not, I wasn’t prepared to take on my dreams in the same way I am today. Now looking back, I can see how corporate life taught me to be strategic and motherhood gave me the strength to take risks. Together, they gave me something I wasn’t expecting: the courage to “start over.”

Why Your Story Matters to Me

One thing this journey has taught me is that it’s okay to take risks and put yourself out there. Is it scary? 100%. Now when I feel scared, I think about what my life might look like if I don’t take the risks. If I don’t put myself out there. If I don’t try. Will I be stable and comfortable? Sure. But inside I know I will regain that all-too-familiar feeling of disappointment, shame and letting myself down.

I’ve found that when I do take the risk and put myself out there—scary or not—I always feel empowered. I’ve faced uncertainty, career changes, and that voice in your head that says ‘am I good enough?’.

I know what it’s like to hold back, but I also know the power of stepping forward.

That’s my mission now in helping people shine in their personal life and careers. Although it’s just one piece of the puzzle, if my photography gives someone that little boost of confidence to get out there and make their dreams happen, then I know I’ve done my job. 

The Next Chapter

Now at age 40, I’m taking my passion for photography full-time. Sure, some might see it as ‘starting over at 40’—but today, I see it as ‘I’m just getting started.’

I am now certain why I connect with my clients, and it’s because I am my clients. I am in their same shoes. Out there, gaining the confidence to make things happen for myself and my business.

Today, I specialize in helping professionals and business owners capture their authentic selves through personal brand photography. I’ve seen firsthand how having high-quality, authentic visuals help entrepreneurs put their best foot forward—just like I had to find my own footing when starting over.

While my focus started with headshots and branding, I’m beginning to expand into product photography. I’m always growing and learning, which is what makes this journey so exciting.

In an age of social media and online business, personal brand photography isn’t just about pretty pictures—it’s about telling a story that resonates.

I am able to pull an understanding of branding, deadlines and professionalism from my corporate background and sprinkle it with both a creative edge and motherhood’s empathy, providing the perfect balance of structured expertise and authentic storytelling. 

You know what? After a statement like that, I think it’s safe to say that I’m making that purple-camera-holding 10-year old self proud. 

Did my journey strike a chord with you, or are you walking a similar path? I’d absolutely love to hear about it! Feel free to leave a comment below or share your own experiences with me on social media. Let’s connect!

Ready to create your own brand story? Reach out here and let’s chat about your vision!

Until next time,

Jaclyn 😊