Be in the Photo.

Not because you look perfect. Because you were there.

I was raised in a family where pictures were cherished. 

My mom is present in our childhood albums, as a teenager in India with her two sisters, little snapshots of life that show me both the human she was before she had us and the experiences we had all together as a family. 

My dad always had a camera on him (and still does), and although occasionally we heard him ask us to move out of the frame so he could capture the sunset :-D, he did a fantastic job making sure my mom was documented well within our family.

I absolutely love it, and not once do I think to myself – she wasn’t wearing the right outfit, she’s not wearing makeup, did she gain weight?, or why didn’t she brush her hair? All I see is someone I love and it brings me so much joy. I asked her if she ever thought those things, and she said all she ever wanted was pictures of her with the people she loves.

Three generations of women, together in a single frame — 1987.

I’m just so incredibly grateful that she’s in the photo. 

The Lie We Were Handed

Somewhere along the way, women learned that being photographed was something you had to earn.

You earn it by being thin enough. Young enough. Put-together enough. Famous enough. By having the right occasion – a wedding, a milestone, a reason someone else deemed worthy of documentation.

But hear me, and hear me well. That’s not true. 

“Just because,” is a reason. Existing is a reason. I want to celebrate who I am at this moment, is a reason. Being you, is a reason. 

This is not a personal failing. This is a cultural script. And it is time to stop reading from it.

What We Actually Leave Behind

Here is what I know, ahem, read the opening paragraph again, your kids don’t need a perfect photo of you.

They want proof you existed.

They want to see your face mid-laugh, your hands doing something ordinary, your eyes looking directly at them through the lens of a camera that someone thought to pick up. They want to be able to say, there she is, when they’re older and missing you. They want evidence that you took up space in the world, because you did, and because that matters.

A portrait is not vanity. A portrait is a gift to everyone who loves you.

A mother and her three daughters, seated together — July 2013.

The Five Things We Tell Ourselves (And What’s Actually True)

1. “I’ll get photos when I look better.” Your body is not a “before picture.” It is a body that is alive right now, doing remarkable things, belonging to a person the world is lucky to have in it. There is no better version of you that deserves to be seen more than the incredible human you are right now.

A woman and a child, caught mid-smile — a vintage portrait.

2. “I’m always the one behind the camera.” Someone has to decide to be seen. Let it be you. Hand the camera over. Ask a stranger. Hire a photographer. Set a timer. Do the slightly awkward thing. Do it anyway.

3. “I don’t like how I look in photos.” Friends, you weren’t taught to see yourself clearly. You were taught to critique yourself efficiently. To be humble and self-effusive. To downplay who you are. Are these bad things? Not necessarily. But sometimes, this becomes a habit and a defense mechanism to avoid anyone looking too closely, and you start to actually believe that you’re not the one orchestrating this beautiful life or deserving of moments to shine. Spoiler alert – you do deserve all the moments. Comfort in front of a camera comes with practice. The more you’re photographed, the more comfortable you become, the less critical you will be, and honestly? Your whole perspective on yourself may change entirely.

4. “It feels vain.” It isn’t. Vanity is believing you’re more important than others. Wanting documentation of your own life is not vanity – it’s self-respect. It is saying: I was here, and that was worth something.

5. “There’s no occasion.” There doesn’t need to be. Ordinary Tuesday is a valid occasion. So is right now.

The Charge

Be in the photo.

Not because you’ve earned it, not because you look perfect, not because it’s a special occasion.

YOU are the story. Absence is not humility and the camera didn’t make you insecure, the culture around you did. You are allowed to stop agreeing with it.

Stop waiting to deserve to be photographed.

You already do.

A quiet moment between husband and wife — 2000

This week, make the change.

The next time someone says they want a picture with you? Maybe your child, your spouse, your friend, your grandchild, don’t make excuses. Just say, “thank you, I would love that.” Book a session with your favorite photographer simply to say – I’m here. 

If this resonated, share it with a woman who’s always the one holding the camera.