As a photographer, my clients come to me because they want to tell their story, capture their connections, and showcase their everyday lives. They want to embrace their perfectly imperfect world—chaos and all. These are the people who don't have it all together, who think outside the box, and who love to laugh without taking life too seriously.
In a world where phone photography and social media dominate, we're all used to snapping quick selfies or posing for photos that feel more staged than genuine. But I want you to look back in 20 years and remember the raw, unpolished moments—the ones that tell the real story of who you are. Those not-so-perfect shots are the ones you'll cherish most because they reflect life as it is right now.
I see so many posts from parents saying, "I can't get my kids to all look and smile at the camera." And I get it—it can be frustrating. But I want to challenge the idea of perfection. Letting go of the need for everyone to pose perfectly in every family photo is not just liberating, it’s transformative.
For years, I thought family photos had to be flawless—the perfect smiles, everyone looking at the camera, capturing that "ideal" moment. The first day of school, the Santa photos... I wanted everything to be just right. But then, as my Neurodiverse family grew, I realized that forcing smiles or bribing kids for that "perfect shot" wasn’t the experience I wanted for anyone.
Looking back at those photos now, I remember the stress, the forced smiles, and the frustration. And worst of all, I can see how my actions affected my kids. It's a reminder that chasing perfection can sometimes make us miss the real joy of the moment.
I’ve been asked, “Can you Photoshop out his head so he’ll be looking at the camera?” The idea that a photo only counts if everyone is smiling at the machine—that’s someone else’s definition of "inclusive." But why should a photo only be perfect if it conforms to someone else's idea of normal? And by the way, the answer is no, I can’t Photoshop; I don’t use it.
The moment belongs to the person, not the camera. The beauty of real, unposed moments is that they are your moments. They capture the essence of who you are in all your chaos, your love, your laughter, and even your imperfections. Thank you to all of my clients who appreciate this. Thank you for allowing me to document the messy, beautiful reality of life.
Because at the end of the day, that’s what’s worth remembering.
Kirstyn x
