Why Can We See Everyone Else's Beauty But Our Own?

Have you ever looked at a photo of your best friend and immediately thought:

She looks incredible.

Meanwhile, she zooms straight in on the one tiny thing she doesn't like.

And you're sitting there thinking...

Are we even looking at the same picture?

It's funny how easily we can see beauty in the people we love.

We notice their smile.

Their laugh.

The way their whole face changes when they're genuinely happy.

We see their strength, their personality, their softness, their sass and all of those little things that make them them.

But then someone turns the camera toward us...

and suddenly we're playing a completely different game.

We aren't looking at the whole woman anymore.

We're inspecting her.

Arms.

Stomach.

Chin.

Wrinkles.

Stretch marks.

Whatever insecurity happens to be shouting the loudest that day.

And I think sometimes we need someone else in our corner because our own eyes aren't always very kind to us.

That's One of My Favorite Parts of Being a Photographer

When I'm photographing you, I'm not looking at you the way you inspect yourself in the bathroom mirror.

I'm looking at light.

Movement.

Expression.

Connection.

I'm watching for that split second when you stop thinking about what your body is doing and something real comes through.

Sometimes it's confidence.

Sometimes it's softness.

Sometimes it's that little smirk that says, Ohhhh... she's feeling herself now.

That's the woman I'm trying to photograph.

Not some imaginary "perfect" version of you.

You.

Maybe We Need to Borrow Someone Else's Eyes Sometimes

There are moments when we simply can't see ourselves clearly.

That's when having the right people in your corner matters.

The friend who tells you to stop deleting the picture because you look beautiful.

The person who reminds you how far you've come.

The photographer who turns the back of the camera around and watches you say:

"Wait... THAT'S ME?!"

Sometimes confidence doesn't begin with magically loving every inch of yourself.

Sometimes it begins by borrowing someone else's perspective long enough to realize that maybe...

just maybe...

you've been a little too hard on the woman in the mirror.

And she deserves to be seen as a whole woman again.

Not a list of things you'd like to change.

Not someday.

Not ten pounds from now.

Her.

Right now.

She's worth seeing.