One of the perks of my job — aside from keeping spreadsheets from going feral and arguing over data with charming intensity — is that I get to travel. A few times a year, I get to fly the friendly skies, zig-zagging across the U.S., hopping from conference room to coffee shop, from Capitol Hill to coastal breeze.

Here’s a little secret for every photographer trying to “do it all”:
You can’t.
And honestly, you shouldn’t.

Let’s talk about something most photographers don’t love to talk about: scheduling. Not the glamorous part like golden hour or when the light hits just right — I’m talking about the actual calendar, the backend, the sanity-saving strategy behind when and how often I shoot.

Look, I love natural light. I prefer it. The subtle glowing bokeh diffused through the greenery behind the subject. That’s my jam.

It’s soft. It’s warm. It’s moody. It’s perfect… until it’s not.

Because sometimes, the sun just refuses to cooperate. It hides behind clouds. It goes down way too fast. Or it throws weird, blotchy shadows on your subject’s face like it’s trying to sabotage your work. Or if you’re shooting indoors with crappy lighting.

I get it. You’re excited. You just booked your first session. You’re learning how to dodge toddlers and weird shadows at the same time. You’ve got presets now. You’ve got a logo. And dang it, you want everyone on your feed to know it.

But let’s talk about something important for a second: Don’t turn your photography hustle into a full-blown social media hostage situation.

Let’s start with the spoiler: My career pays for my house, my insurance, my 401(k), my gas, groceries, the roof repairs I’ve been putting off, and roughly 117 Pop-Tarts a month. (Give or take.)

And while I love photography — love capturing real moments, real faces, real laughs — I also really love having electricity and a retirement plan. So here’s the truth no one wants to put in bold on Instagram: Don’t quit your job for your passion if your job pays the bills.

That might not sound sexy. It might not sound like the dream-chasing, risk-taking, “build your empire” narrative we’re all sold online — but it's real. And it's sustainable. And if you play it right, it can be wildly fulfilling.

If you’ve ever tried to photograph a dog, you know the chaos.
The excitement.
The complete lack of regard for your fancy camera or careful posing.

It’s like photographing toddlers — only they can run faster and lick your lens

By day, I swim in spreadsheets. I juggle metrics. I crunch data. I have deep, impassioned arguments about qualitative vs. quantitative findings like it’s the championship round of a nerdy debate club. And honestly? I love it.

But I’d lose my mind if that was all I did.

That’s why I blog.

Let’s talk about the real MVPs of my personal development plan: Jude and Scarlett. Age four. Equal parts chaos and charm. They are wild, unpredictable, sticky-fingered bundles of pure energy — and also, low-key, the best training I’ve ever had for working with people of all ages.