I was a professional photographer for a year. My camera was gifted to me by family in an unprecedented group giving. I practiced with it daily and studied every book I could get my hands on. After several friends approached me to take pictures of their families, I began to charge for my time and skill. It went well. Until it didn't.
My rates were very low. A woman looking for a cheap photographer for her engagement ceremony approached me to shoot her indoor event. I told her I only shoot outdoors and wouldn't be able to guarantee more than a handful of photos. Despite incredible skill with natural light, I never could understand indoor lighting nor did I care to. She agreed that as long as I could provide ten photos, all was well.
I managed 30-50 and got her approval. I think her parents must not have been satisfied with, however, because she changed her mind and claimed I hadn't provided what we agreed. She had her mother call me repeatedly to shout at me and demand a refund. After two days of being name-called and told I was a liar and the threat of a lawsuit (the woman I photographed was a lawyer), I gave them their money back and requested they never contact me again. I also gave them all the photos.
What's funny is I had taken the gig as a favor, even lowered my rates and worked extra time. I held up my end of the contract. And afterward? I quit. In fact, the whole situation was so washed in negativity, I sold my original camera. I could no longer stand the sight of it. The price I got just covered my losses from the engagement party. I was relieved. Then I learned that whoever had purchased the camera had done so with a stolen credit card. Those funds, too, were returned. Police tried to intercept the shipment of the camera and failed. I lost my entire kit.
A photographer's kit is her heart. Mine included bag, lenses, flash kit, camera, filters and more.
I have not enjoyed photography since despite replacing my camera with a better model. It sits in its bag unused. When I look at it, I still feel revulsion.
It is time to change that perspective. I may not ever have the same love for photography as I once did, but I no longer need to hold on to the pain that has become associated with it. I am making a commitment to myself to move on. This is the first step.
images via pixabay.com
