Quitting … and unquitting.
“I quit.”
I said those words yesterday. And I think at least once last week, and probably last month.
In my mind I’m quitting because I’m tired of the competition, of trying to make myself stand out, of being critical of my own work, of questioning my ability, and of the constant cycle of blogging, posting on Facebook, thinking of marketing ideas and wondering why other photographers are booking well into 2014 and I’m barely booking into December.
I’m not actually quitting — I’m way too stubborn to do that. But I struggle to accept that I am enough. And that others might be better photographers than me or be doing better in business than me, but they are not me. And that I should focus on my business and what I do well, rather than get distracted by the noise. My brain knows these things, but it’s hard not to get buried under everything else. And I know I’m not alone.
Running a business while working a full-time job and having other responsibilities is incredibly difficult. I spend my lunch hours answering emails and blogging, and my evenings processing photos, placing client orders and other duties. Weekends are reserved for sessions and volunteer photography for shelters and rescues, as are weeknights through the spring, summer and fall. And even though I don’t have the luxury of spending eight hours a day or more focusing solely on my business, I strive to operate like I do, and I try to provide the best experience and the best photographs possible for every single one of my clients. In fact, many of them think that I do run Happy Tails Pet Photography full time.
There are lessons I’ve learned over the past few years that I remind myself of when I start to struggle. Lessons that have made the journey worthwhile and have showed me that I am learning more about myself, my values and what’s important to me. And more importantly, they have reaffirmed WHY I am doing this.
1) I can be a part-time professional. For a long time I thought that to be truly recognized as a professional photographer, I had to be working at it full time and making a living from it. In my mind, being part time put me on a lower rung of sorts, and that people would take me less seriously because I don’t NEED to do it — photography isn’t paying my mortgage or putting food on my table. And some of the full-timers aren’t fans because they feel I’m hurting their business, and thus, their livelihood. But I’ve come to understand that what makes a professional isn’t the amount of time a person puts into a venture — it’s the quality of work, the consistency of work and being reliable. I work hard at all these aspects, and I have to be super creative in the process because I don’t have the full time hours to work on it like others do.
2) Not everyone is going to like me and that’s ok as long as I like me. Pet photography is a competitive niche, so when a potential client doesn’t book or others in the industry are critical, it’s tough. This was particularly hard when I was first starting out and I would really take it to heart — it would make me question everything about my business and everything about myself as a human being (ok, that might be slightly dramatic). The good news is, these are all opportunities to learn and grow. Now instead of focusing on the people that don’t become clients or the negativity (yep, some people out there can be downright mean), I focus on the clients I do book and making sure they have an awesome experience. As long as I feel good about myself and my choices, then everything else is just noise.
3) Being a mom is my business model. I personally don’t know any other pet photographers who are moms, and that makes me a bit of a rarity. It also means I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone else because my situation is totally unique. As much as I want to work on marketing my business, attend workshops and network, what I want even more is to be home to tuck my son in at night, watch his soccer games and absorb every ounce of his three-year-old awesomeness. I’m still accepting that being a mom means that my business will grow slower than others. But I’m also realizing the really successful photography businesses that are fully booked and thriving are the exception, not the rule. I’ve learned to prioritize what I want or need to do most with Happy Tails and focus on doing those few things exceptionally well.
The point of this post? I’m not really sure. Perhaps it’s to just to have something tangible that I can read when I need to remember that I am enough. Or to make me remember why I’m doing all this in the first place: because it brings me joy, fills my heart and calms my mind. One afternoon of shelter photography can erase a week’s worth of stress. One Celebration Session can reduce the biggest of problems to the tiniest, silliest little speck. Seeing someone’s face light up when they see tangible memories of their most beloved companion quickly turns “I quit” into “I can’t wait to do more.”
Wags,
