Confidence, Not Posing

This photograph is a good reminder of why I find portrait photography so rewarding.

When we started, the subject was — by her own admission — not entirely comfortable in front of the camera. Not resistant, not awkward, just gently guarded. That familiar combination of politeness and self-consciousness that so many people bring with them: I’m not photogenic, I don’t really know what to do, just tell me where to stand.

I see that a lot. And I’ve come to enjoy it.

We talked first. Nothing heavy, nothing strategic — just enough to slow things down and take the pressure off “performing”. I set the light, explained roughly what I was aiming for, and made it clear there was no rush and no expectation to get anything “right”. That permission is important. Once people realise they don’t have to impress the camera, something shifts.

This was shot outside, using the doorway as a natural frame. Brickwork, symmetry, a solid architectural backdrop that does some of the compositional heavy lifting. The lighting was simple and controlled, just enough to lift her from the background without flattening the scene. I wanted it to feel grounded and honest — calm rather than showy.

At first the poses were tentative. Hands carefully placed. Weight evenly balanced. Everything technically correct and emotionally neutral. Perfectly fine — but not there yet.

Then, almost without noticing, she started to relax. A hand rested on the rail. Her stance softened. She leaned into the space instead of occupying it cautiously. There was a moment — always is — where she surprised herself. You can see it in the body language: a quiet confidence that wasn’t rehearsed, just discovered.

That moment is what I’m always looking for.

People often assume that being photographed well is about confidence, or charisma, or knowing how to “work the camera”. In reality, it’s far more often about trust. Creating an environment where someone feels safe enough to stop managing how they look and start simply being. When that happens, the photograph almost takes itself.

This image matters to me because it reflects a skill I’ve developed over time and genuinely value: working with people who arrive shy, unsure, or convinced they’re not photogenic — and helping them leave surprised by how comfortable, capable, and expressive they actually are.

That transformation never gets old. And it’s one of the reasons I love doing this work.