The Real Reason You Can't Look at Certain Photos — And What It's Telling You About Your Life

There are two kinds of photos in most women's lives.

The kind that fill you all the way up when you look at them. And the kind you scroll past as fast as possible because something about them hurts in a place you can't quite name.

And here's the thing I want you to know:

The difference has nothing to do with the lighting. It has nothing to do with your outfit, your hair, your body, or how polished your brand was that day. It has everything to do with how alive you were. How much you trusted yourself. How much you were loving yourself in that season — or how quietly you were breaking.

A photo isn't just a photo.

It's evidence.

The 2021 Photos I Will Never Stop Loving

I have a set of brand photos from 2021 that are some of my favorites I've ever had taken. They were shot by a family member. The lighting wasn't perfect. The styling wasn't flawless. I was still figuring out a lot.

And I love them. Completely.

When I look at them, I can tell you exactly what was going on in my life. I had started working with a coach to help me get out of my job and fully into my business. It was the scariest goal I had ever set. I wanted the freedom, the business, the life where I called the shots over my own time — and at the exact same time, I was telling myself I couldn't have it.

But those photos caught me right in the middle of changing that story.

Not after the fear was gone. Not after I had all the proof. But right there — in the middle of deciding that maybe, just maybe, I was allowed to want what I wanted and actually go after it.

I look at those photos and cry. Not because they're perfectly styled. But because I can feel how much that woman loved herself. How much she was trusting herself. How much she had stopped making herself wrong for wanting more.

That is why I treasure them.

The 2016 Photos I Can Barely Look At

Then there's the other set.

From the outside, they look like happy family photos. We're together, we're smiling, we're celebrating. They look like exactly the kind of photos you're supposed to cherish.

But the truth is, they make me want to close the book.

Those photos are from October 2, 2016. Twenty-nine days after my dad passed away. It was my mom's birthday — and the pretending was almost unbearable. We were showing up because we loved each other and we were trying. But our hearts were still so raw, so fragile, so broken.

I don't see joy when I look at those photos.

I feel lostness. Bewilderment. A grief so heavy that every day felt like a fight to just get up and not get swallowed whole.

The photos aren't bad photos. But I can barely look at them because I know the truth of them. I know what my body was carrying. I know what my heart was holding. I know how hard I was working just to seem okay.

What Your Photos Are Actually Telling You

This is what a photo really is:

Evidence of who you were. Evidence of what you were carrying. Evidence of what you were believing. Evidence of how deeply — or how little — you were loving yourself in that season.

And we live in such an Instagram world, don't we? The lighting is always beautiful. The captions always sound inspiring. The life always looks like it's working.

But only you know the truth of your photos.

Only you know if the smile was real. If that season felt as good as it looked. If the woman in that photo was genuinely alive and proud — or if she was quietly falling apart while everyone thought she had it all together.

And here is what I know to be true: if you feel awful from the inside out, what you end up collecting over time is a gallery of photos you hate. Not because you didn't look beautiful. But because you remember how painful it was to be you.

You remember all the things you were tolerating. All the desires you were dismissing. All the times you said "it's fine" when nothing about it felt fine in your body.

You don't deserve that.

The Two Questions Worth Sitting With

I'm not going to give you a list of tips. But I am going to give you two things to do.

One: Go look at your photos. A set from any season — recent or years ago. And instead of evaluating how you looked, notice what you feel. Does something soften? Does something tighten? Do you feel proud of her, or do you want to scroll past her as fast as possible?

That feeling is information. Don't dismiss it.

Two: Ask yourself this — and mean it:

If I took photos of my life right now, would I love what I'd feel when I looked back at them someday?

Not "would I look good." Not "would my brand be polished."

Would you feel proud of her?

Because that answer is your compass.

The Life That Feels Beautiful From the Inside

This is the deeper work of coaching. Yes, we talk about the business. The offer, the calendar, the clients, the content, the money. We'll absolutely get to all of that.

But the real work underneath all of it is this: coming home to yourself. Stopping the quiet abandonment of the woman who has been trying so hard for so long. Falling more in love with yourself — not in a mirror-affirmation kind of way, but in the kind of way where you stop treating your own desires like a problem and start treating them like direction.

One day, you'll flip through the photographs of your life. And I want you to see yourself and remember exactly how alive you felt. I want you to see yourself and think, "That was when I finally chose me."

The greatest gift you can give yourself isn't a collection of beautiful photographs.

It's becoming the woman inside them that you're proud to remember.

If you're ready to do that work, Reinvention Room is where it happens.

Listen to the full episode of Simply Own It → 124: What Your Favorite, and Most Painful, Photos are Actually Telling You