If being photographed makes you tense, it’s not a personality flaw.

Keira Maloney
9 hours ago
3 min read

If you’re thinking about booking a professional photoshoot, especially in a studio, there’s a good chance you fall into one of two camps.

You might be someone who’s been photographed before. A lot. You know your angles. Your body kind of takes over when a camera comes out. You move, adjust, pose, reset, all without really thinking about it. Being photographed doesn’t feel loaded. It’s just a thing you do.

Or… you might be the other kind of person.

The one who needs photos because you run a business, or you’re launching something, or someone gently suggested you should update your headshots. The one who arrives early, shoulders slightly lifted, doing that polite smile that says I’m fine but also I might pass away. The one who says “I’m really awkward” or “I’m not photogenic” within the first few minutes, half joking, half not.

If that’s you, I want you to know something straight up.

You’re not difficult, behind, or bad at this. You’re a normal human.

Photographing you is not about forcing you to suddenly become confident or performative or “camera ready.” It’s about meeting you exactly where you are and guiding you from there.

A photoshoot is actually an incredibly emotional experience. You’re standing under lights, being looked at, often by someone you’ve just met, while your brain starts offering unsolicited commentary about your face, your body, your age, your smile, your posture. All the stuff you usually keep on mute suddenly grabs the mental microphone.

If the person behind the camera doesn’t know how to hold that moment properly, it can feel awful. You stiffen. Your smile freezes. You go into “just get through it” mode. And even if the photos look technically fine, something feels off. Flat. Like they don’t quite feel like you.

My role in a shoot, especially for women who aren’t used to being seen like this, is not just to take photos.

It’s to regulate the room.

To slow things down when you’re overwhelmed. To give you clear, simple direction when your brain goes blank. To know when to talk you through it and when to give you space. To bring humour in when things feel too serious. To be steady when you’re wobbling.

I joke that I’m a professional hype girl, but it’s actually pretty accurate. Think less “forced positivity” and more that quiet woman backstage at an awards night, fixing a dress strap, murmuring “you’re good, you’ve got this,” before someone steps into the spotlight.

And this matters, because I don’t care about perfect photos.

Perfect is boring. Perfect isn’t what people connect with, perfect usually isn’t even what you like about yourself.

What I care about is helping you soften. Helping you stop being so hard on yourself for a bit. Helping you feel grounded enough to take up space without apologising for it.

The best shoots I’ve ever done aren’t the ones where everything went smoothly. They’re the ones where someone arrived nervous and left a little lighter. Where there was a moment, often when they caught a glimpse of themselves on the back of the camera and they went “oh wow.”

That doesn’t come from fancy gear or a beautiful studio alone. It comes from attention. From care. From understanding that being seen isn’t natural for most people, especially women, especially mothers, especially anyone who’s spent years putting everyone else first.