Keeping Scores

Over the years, I've spoken at a handful of conferences. Sometimes a few dozen people in the room, sometimes a few hundred. And without fail, the moment I walked off stage, I'd start replaying the whole thing in my head. The slide transition that didn't go smoothly. The point I forgot to make. The answer I wished I'd given differently during Q&A.

Then people would come up to me afterwards. One person would mention a story that resonated with them. Another would tell me a particular idea that inspired them. The funny thing is, none of them mentioned the things I thought I'd messed up.

The audience and I had sat through two completely different presentations. I was focused on the delivery. They were focused on what they took away.

I noticed the same thing happens after portrait sessions. I'd be sitting there wondering whether I'd chosen the best angle, whether the light could have been moved slightly, whether there was a better frame somewhere in the sequence I might have missed. Clients rarely bring any of that up. What they say instead is something like, "I really enjoyed this more than I expected" or "that was much less awkward than I thought it would be."

As photographers, we're trained to notice details. Light, composition, expression, timing. It becomes second nature to look at a photograph and immediately spot the things that could have been better. But clients are often experiencing something completely different. They're remembering how they felt. Whether they felt comfortable, whether they felt seen, whether they actually enjoyed being there.

I think this goes beyond speaking or photography honestly. In a lot of areas of life, we judge ourselves by things nobody else is measuring. We're picking apart the mechanics while everyone else is just taking in the message. Maybe that's why we're so much harder on ourselves than the people around us ever are.