How to Find Your Voice
In the early days of photography, we all did the same thing: we hunted for a "style." We spend hours tweaking Lightroom sliders, buying presets from our favorite photographer, and trying to mimic the "look" of those photographers we admire. We think that if we can just get our images to look a certain way, we will have finally arrived.
But after years of documenting families in their most vulnerable seasons—and years of teaching my children to find their "voice" in multiple languages and on the piano (they say music is the language of the soul, right?)—I’ve realized something:
Style is what you do, but Voice is why you do it.
If two photographers walk into the same room, they will notice different things and feel drawn to certain things that are different from each other. Or even the same photographer during different seasons of life, they will notice things differently.
We lived in a very small casita in the backyard on my in-laws’ property for a while. We made it work, but it was definitely crowded. One morning when I got up before the kids and went to the bathroom, I saw this pile of laundry with that glorious morning light coming through the door, I felt the peace for a moment. I felt that indeed, as a mother, there will always be endless tasks to do, but it is also ok to take a deep breath and soak in the quietness.
Of course, now that I have moved into a different house plus my kids are way outgrown their baby bathtubs, this is no longer a daily scene I get to experience anymore. However, the load I carry as a mother doesn’t change. I still need this reminder.
If you get to know me and my work, you can tell this is my photo. Not necessarily because of how I edited this image with a certain preset or trending style. It is because this is how I “speak“. I love this kind of stuff — subtle details or the mundane in life as my subject, triggering a much deeper thought and reflection into my life as a mother, and more.
There is nothing wrong with learning the technicals and wanting to replicate what you love. That’s how we humans learn to talk — we mimic how people speak around us. Then there comes a time when we switch from learning to talk to using language to express ourselves.
Your voice is the intersection of what you love, what you fear, and what you believe the world needs to see.
When I talk about continued education—and why I’m so passionate about my class in the upcoming MilkyWay Family Retreat —this is what I mean. I’m not interested in teaching you all my settings to just get a correct exposure. I want to teach you how to think when you’re standing in a room that feels "different" or "uncomfortable."
I want to help you find the "Head Shift" that allows your voice to speak louder than your settings. I want to teach you how to see the world through my lens.
In 2026, anyone can use AI to "reproduce" a style. You can tell a computer to “make this look like so-and-so’s editing," and it will get pretty close. But AI cannot have a voice. It cannot have a conviction. It cannot decide that a specific, messy, uncurated moment is the "most beautiful story we get to tell."
Only you can do that.
Your voice is the only thing that is future-proof. It’s the only thing that makes your work irreplaceable.
PS. Here is a great book to read on different photographers’ process about photography.
