How Photography Changed the Way I See My Life, My Family, and the Stories Worth Preserving

I fell in love with photography long before I understood the true value of a photograph.

When I was young, I remember taking my siblings outside with my Kodak disposable camera and creating little photo sessions. I wasn’t thinking about lighting or composition, and I wasn’t trying to create something perfect. I simply loved capturing the people I cared about.

Years later, when I was a senior in high school, my parents gave me a choice. They could either pay for my senior pictures or buy me a camera so I could document my senior year. I chose the camera.

I carried it everywhere, football games, parties, assemblies, graduation celebrations, and yearbook signing. I wanted to capture all the little pieces of a season of life I knew I would never experience again.

Somewhere along the way, the computer that stored most of those photos crashed. I lost many of those images, although I was lucky enough to have printed a few before it happened. At the time, I was devastated because I lost photographs. Now I understand that I lost little pieces of a story.

I didn’t know then that photography would become my career or that I would spend the next 15 years photographing weddings, families, and once-in-a-lifetime moments for other people. But even then, I understood something I still believe today: the ordinary moments are usually the ones we miss the most.

Photographs Become Part of Our Family History

A few years ago, after my great grandma passed away, I started thinking about the traditions and memories that live inside families.

Every Christmas, my family makes her fudge. It’s one of those simple traditions that might not seem significant from the outside, but for us, it is part of who we are. During Covid, I finally had the time to create something I had been thinking about for years: a family cookbook.

We named it “Oh Fudge!”

From the very beginning, it was about more than recipes. It was about preserving a piece of our family. Alongside the recipes, I included family photographs—some formal portraits, some simple snapshots, and others of relatives I only know through the stories passed down about them.

Five generations of memories now live together in those pages.

That’s the thing about photographs. They do not just tell us what someone looked like; they tell us where we came from. They remind us of traditions, relationships, personalities, and moments that would otherwise slowly fade.

Professional images provided by Sarah Knight and Heidi Oren with Adore Me Photography

What 15 Years of Photographing Weddings Has Taught Me

After photographing weddings for more than 15 years, I have learned that the photos people treasure most over time are not always the ones they expect.

Of course, the beautiful portraits matter, and the carefully chosen details deserve to be remembered. The design, the flowers, the dress, the location, and all the thoughtful decisions that bring a wedding day together are important. Beautiful wedding photos preserve how the event looked, but the photos that become priceless are the ones that help you remember how it felt.

I know this because I have experienced it in my own life.

One of my favorite photographs from my wedding day with Russ is not a perfectly posed portrait. It is a photo of me helping my grandma stand before taking a formal family picture. It was a simple moment, but looking back, it represents so much of what our relationship became during the final years of her life. It captured love, care, and connection in a way I never could have planned.

That photograph means more to me now than I ever could have known on my wedding day, and that experience has shaped the way I photograph families at weddings.

Over the years, several couples have reached out to thank me for a photograph of a parent, grandparent, or loved one who is no longer here. It is not something anyone wants to think about while planning a wedding, and honestly, I do not want my couples to have to think about it, but I do.

I notice the way your dad looks at you before walking you down the aisle. I notice your grandparents watching from their seats. I notice your siblings laughing together, your friends celebrating, and all the relationships that made you who you are.

A wedding is not only a beautiful event; it is the beginning of a family story.

Photography Changed the Way I Experience My Own Life

People are sometimes surprised to learn that because I photograph people for a living, I often put my camera down during family moments. It might seem backwards, but photography has taught me how important it is to be present.

Not every second needs to be documented, and some moments are meant to simply be lived.

Over the years, I have found a balance. I intentionally hire photographers or create family portraits every couple of years because I know those images matter. I photograph my nieces and nephews as they grow, documenting their first moments after birth, their first family photos, and the changing seasons of their lives.

At the same time, I also put my phone away so I can listen, enjoy, and fully experience the moment. Photography has taught me that what we are really trying to preserve is not perfection, it is connection.

Why Investing in Photography Matters

When couples ask why they should invest in wedding photography, I think about the way photographs grow more valuable with time.

Your wedding photos are not only for the version of you experiencing the day. They are for those who love you now and for the generations who may come after. They are for the people who will want to know what your wedding felt like. Who was there, how young you were, and how everyone laughed, celebrated, and loved each other.

No matter what life looks like years from now, your wedding day represents the beginning of a chapter, and that matters.

Family does not look exactly the same for everyone. I am a wife, a stepmom, a sister, an aunt, a daughter, and a granddaughter. The people who shape our lives come into them in many different ways, and those relationships are worth remembering.

Someday, the moments you miss may not be the big ones. They may be holidays at your grandparents’ house, the song you always sang in the car with your mom, or the way your dad looked when he danced with his little girl. These routine moments quietly become everything.

If you are choosing a wedding photographer, I hope you choose someone who sees more than a timeline or a list of required images. Choose someone who understands they are preserving the start of a story. I shared more about finding that connection here: How to Choose a Wedding Photographer When You Care About Emotion, Design, and Trust.

The real value of photography is not only remembering what life looked like; it is remembering the people, stories, and moments that made it yours.