This is me age 5. I wanted to be a singer.
Yeah. That didn’t really happen. Turns out you need to be able to sing to be a singer. At least it helps. So I’ve heard.
This is me age 33. I’m a copywriter/wedding photographer. And yes. That’s a dead badger.
If someone had told me 10 years ago that I would be working as a wedding photographer, I would have laughed out loud. I don’t think I was even aware of what a wedding photographer did, to be honest. Make people pose awkwardly while smiling and looking straight into the camera maybe? Not that I had a good idea about what I was supposed to do with my life, but I knew one thing. I was never ever, not in a million years, going to end up as an artist of any kind. I wanted something secure. Something reliable.
A creative job = nononono
*insert all kinds of crappy courses I’ve taken and jobs I’ve had*
And then. Well.
I remember when I picked up my Canon 400D for the very first time. It felt… right. I looked into the viewfinder and I just knew.
I knew I was home. Sounds silly maybe, but it’s the truth.
I guess sometimes life takes an unexpected turn. I never thought I would be doing this. This weird job that doesn’t really feel like a job. I mean, I capture moments for a living. Play with the light. How insane is that?
– So what do you do?
– I’m a wedding photographer.
– No, really, what do you do?
Still. There have been times when I’ve wondered if this is really what I want to do. But I’ve always reached the same conclusion. I can’t see myself NOT doing this. The awesome people I get to meet. The places I get to see. That special day I get to be part of and document so that 15-20 years from now people can look at the photos and feel as if they’re there all over again.
I think 5-year-old me would have approved.