Too Much to Do, Not Enough Time.

When Life Takes Over.

My page has been quite for months. It’s not because I've hung up my camera and called it quits—if anything, I crave holding the camera in my hands more now than ever. My desire for photography to become something more than a hobby is incredibly strong. But between being a mother of three, working a full-time job, and trying to be somewhat present as a wife, my days disappear faster than I can blink.

I want to grab my camera, chase the light, and create something beautiful. But dinner needs to be made. Someone can’t find their shoes. A work email dings. Laundry’s piling up. And once again, that creative itch has to wait. It’s a struggle—wanting to grow in a craft that feeds your soul while tending to the people and responsibilities that also hold your heart.

And it's times like this that I tend doubt myself: Maybe I’m not meant to be successful doing something I love. Maybe this is a sign that I can't make it work.

Creativity doesn’t disappear because it's paused. It waits. It’s patient. It’s still there. And it grows.

If you’re in this same season—balancing motherhood, marriage, work, and the constant hum of to-do lists—I am you. We don’t have to give up our creativity. We just have to give it grace. Maybe right now, we honestly can't give it everything. But we can give something.

Even if it’s one photo, even if it’s one idea scribbled in a notebook or even if it’s one moment where I remind myself: “it is ok if you can't right now" One day, there will be more room.

Until then, I’m learning to let my passion live beside my priorities—not behind them. That's why the only sessions I ever share are when my children's birthday's roll around or a fun afternoon shoot that I have been rolling around in my head for months and finally got around to.

And friend, if you’re feeling this post in your bones, please don’t give up. Find little ways to keep your dreams alive—no matter how big or small they may feel right now. When something truly matters to you, there’s always a way to make space for it, even in the busiest seasons.

And here’s one more thing: work on that confidence while it’s quiet. I am working on mine too. I’m slowly building the courage to silence the anxiety and take flight. I believe—deep down—that I could really make this dream come true someday.

Do you believe you could, too?

Capturing In The Moment.

In a world where we’re constantly hustling toward the next goal, and seeming watching everyone else's dreams come true on social media, it’s easy to forget the simple joy that comes from being present. I struggle with finding contentment. I've prayed countless times, asking for the peace to stay present and accept where I am in life. Yet, I find myself consistently focused on the next goal, the next idea, rushing to accomplish everything in sight without fully embracing the moment I’m in. I find myself using the excuse "seeking God's will for my life." Questioning, What does God truly want for me? and constantly seeking what path He wants me to take?

God doesn't want his children struggling or stressing to find Him. If God knows the very hairs on our head, He knows you would be here in this moment. And it's amazing how focusing on the moment and photography are deeply intertwined, as both require a unique awareness of the present. As a photographer, your ability to capture a fleeting moment relies on your focus and presence. You need to see the beauty in what's around you—whether it’s a passing expression, the perfect light, or the subtle details that others might overlook. A great photographer isn't just focused on the technical aspects of the camera, but on the scene in front of them, absorbing the energy, emotions, and life unfolding in real-time.

Being a photographer and living in the moment are boty practices of mindfulness. They encourage you to let go of distractions, to stop rushing toward what's next, and to truly be in every experience.

In photography, the goal isn't always to capture a perfect shot. Photography, when you truly love it, is a good experience for everyone involved. My sessions are more than "say cheese," or sit over there and pose like this. When we get done with a session, my kiddos usually say, "That was fun, mom!" We create moments that both them and I will remember for years. When I say I want to create memories that last a lifetime, I’m not just talking about the picture that hangs on your wall. I’m talking about the time we share together—memories that you’ll cherish and love looking back on. If my session doesn't do that for you, then I've missed my purpose.

Owning My Story: The Power of Choosing My Name

Growing up JennyShea was my nickname. I hated it. Something about shortening my name to Jenny made me feel small and unheard. On the other hand, I have always loved Shea, my middle name. My coworker and I were talking about me rebranding my photography business, and I briefly mentioned using my name but I dismissed the thought.

But I went home later that night, and as I struggled coming up with something modern & catchy, I circled back to my name. I wrote it down and as uncomfortable as it made me feel, I knew something about it just felt right. I realized choosing 'Jenny' would symbolize facing that uncomfortable feeling I've been working through for years. Figuratively, it would be walking right into the den of lions.

It wasn’t easy. Every time I thought about it, a part of me still felt that old resistance—the part of me that hated being called "Jenny" as a child, the part that wanted to remain hidden in the comfort of my middle name, Shea. But I realized that by embracing "Jenny," I was not just embracing a name—I was embracing the woman I have become over the years.

Running my own photography business has always been about capturing raw moments, real emotions, and stories that are authentic. So, it made sense that my business needed to reflect that authenticity too. If I wanted my work to feel personal, I had to start with myself. Choosing "Jenny" was my way of showing up fully, with all the discomfort, growth, and courage it took to get here. This is part of my story.

When I think about my journey as a photographer, I see it in stages. There was the start, when I was too shy to put myself out there. Then, the phase when I had to push through imposter syndrome, wondering if I was good enough. And now, this new chapter—where I’m finally saying, "This is me." I am learning to be ok with not pleasing everyone. I'm doing what I love and I am proving it is good enough just because I love it.

It’s the same way with any creative process: you have to step into the unknown, face your fears, and find comfort in vulnerability. Whether it's picking a name or taking a chance on something new, it's always about growing and finding strength in the things that scare you.

I’m excited for what comes next. Choosing to rebrand with my name feels like stepping into a new era, where I am no longer afraid to claim my space and my story. It’s not just about a business—it’s about me owning my story, my identity, and everything I’ve learned along the way. This is a fresh start. And I’m ready.