I know this is my professional photo blog and where I’m sending potential families that want to work with me to read, especially about what to expect and what to wear and all of the details that come with working with me – but I’m feeling a certain sort of way this morning and I just need to vent, maybe? Maybe not vent, but like, prove I’m a real person with real stuff going on? Life as a mother, wife, default parent, default pet caretaker, bill payer, etc, has been super a lot lately. Please feel free to skip this one, you’re under no obligation to read it.

Last Friday I was getting my son and giant freaking dog out of my car after picking him (the human child lol) up from school, and my giant freaking dog decided to try an chase an amazon delivery truck right when he hopped out. I had a bad hold on him and my driveway was full of slippery snow slush and ice, and he whipped me around backwards and I fell, hitting first my open car door with my head, which closed it, and then falling in an uncontrolled heap on my back to the driveway, hitting my head again. My giant freaking dog, who is 137 pounds, then attempted to pull me down the driveway to chase this stupid van, that had already pulled away. So here I am, on my back, freshly concussed, holding on to his leash for dear life because if I let him go, this whole situation gets a lot worse. Because concussion. Definitely can’t chase him down with the way I’m feeling. My 10 year old son, who is freaking out and yelling at our dog, thankfully grabbed him by the collar to stop my slide down the driveway. It’s now been about 6 days since this little incident and the spot where I hit my head is still very tender. I stopped having concussion related symptoms last Sunday, two days after the fall, thankfully.

Saturday, while concussed, I realized that my cat, Spice, who is 16 this year, was definitely not acting right and I needed to bump up her vet visit. I had made the appointment originally for Monday, Feb 3, but given the way she’s looking/feeling/acting, and the lack of eating and proper drinking, I have been worried. The vet staff at the Village Veterinary Clinic in Mayfield Village is amazing and saw her on Monday. The visit was not a good one. She has cancer. And given her age and symptoms, she is actively dying. They offered to put her to sleep right there, but I was so shocked, and so not in the right mind space, that I just couldn’t. I need to say goodbye properly. I want her paw prints inked in our pet book (that I can’t find), I need a million more photos and videos of her first, I need, I need, I need. How am I supposed to say goodbye to this cat, who has been with me since 2010, for every military and civilian move, every birth of a child, our chief mouser who always pays her “rent”, as we call it, and every single milestone in my life and marriage? How am I going to say goodbye and be okay?

My life is changing, not just with her impending death, but in general. My children are older, no longer in the baby and toddler stages, but truly actual people who are growing up. One of them is a tween, for heavens sake. I feel like I am learning more and more who they are as people, and not just as my babies. I’m finding myself feeling incredibly out of my comfort zone. Suddenly in the deep end and my toes aren’t touching anymore. Their wants, needs, and experiences have changed. Navigating this political climate as a mother is no small feat as well. The conversations I’m having with my older son, who seems a little more aware of things like race and gender than I was at his age, I was unprepared for. I remind myself that this is good! I want him to as questions, to seek deeper truths. If he’s capable of asking me these (sometimes) hard questions, then he is capable of hearing answers and thinking about those answers in an unbiased, inclusive way. It’s just a lot. My brain insists that my son, who will be 11 in March, is still just a baby. I want to time hop back to snuggling him as a newborn in 2014. I want to press kisses against his soft, silky hair as he snuggles against my chest. Time is a thief.

I’m feeling incredibly overwhelmed. Which is obvious, I’m sure. In all things. Including in my business. The way social media is absolutely PUSHING photographic artists like myself to become full-time content creators is EXHAUSTING. My life, my kids, my very valued clients who I photograph, are not ingestible content for the world. I just can’t. I can’t hop around in-front of my cellphone and create content just because Instagram wants to use me. I know my reach would get farther if I did. If I created and uploaded 5-7 reels a week, posted every day, and disregarded my own wants, needs and values. I am the definition of wall flower. I am uncomfortable in the spot light. There are lots of photographers who are just like me, still creating reels and posts and all that, and are very successful, but I don’t know if that’s my truth. I definitely could create reels out of the photos I have permission to post of my clients, but to what end? So Instagram would push my content farther? So I get the “reward” of clicks, likes, and comments? The landscape of being a small business owner is confusing. If I don’t create reels and posts, I don’t get seen, which means I don’t get inquires, which means I don’t get to do what I love. Which is tell stories through photographs. The way social media and google have this stranglehold over my industry in this way is devastating. Realizing this has rocked my metaphorical boat really hard. I have to do more and more and more to sell myself.

Sell. My. Self.

So yeah. January has felt like it’s been a whole year. Not just a single month. There’s a lot more going on in my life that prompted me to write this post, that I don’t feel comfortable sharing. But please know, that if you’re reading this and you’re feeling this way too – this overwhelm, this struggle – you aren’t alone. We’re all fighting invisible battles and it’s okay to acknowledge that.

January is almost over. Spice’s life is coming to a close. Spring is on the horizon. My garden will bloom again. I have so many dahlia seeds from that season and I can’t wait to see what crazy crosses come from those. There are good things in my future. More stories to tell. Hopefully more families reach out to work with me despite my lack of posts and reels. Maybe I’ll create a few. Maybe I won’t.

I don’t know how to end this. If you’re reading this, thank you for listening. Don’t allow my overwhelm to influence your own. We’re going to be okay, we’re going to navigate our way through life’s ups and downs. Big hugs to you. Get yourself another coffee (or tea) and get through the day.

feeling kind of vulnerable,

Lindsay<3