To My Wife, The Wedding Photographer:

For a second, if you don’t mind, I think now is the perfect time for reflection. I’d like to jump back to seven years ago and some change…back to 2008.   You were working three jobs as a substitute teacher, field hockey coach, and waitress. Fairly new as a resident to Virginia Beach, you were just grinding away to pay rent and support our social habits of going out to eat, bar hopping, and date nights to the movie theatre.   Not really knowing what you wanted to do occupationally, you were still such a happy person. I adored you so much because of your constant work ethic, ability to persevere, and unwillingness to fail just to support yourself (and me at times).

Then one day somewhere down the line, without pressing the issue, photography found you. I don’t know the exact moment in time when that light bulb went off for you, but I can reminisce that “It’s Christmas” look on your face that I know all too well every time you talked about it, unforgettable.

And then I remember seeing the photos from the day your mother gave you her camera and you cried your eyes out like a baby, so thankful for having a piece of equipment to get started because we couldn’t afford buying you one. Baseline camera, baseline lens, baseline editing software and crying like there was no tomorrow. You loved photography before you even indulged yourself into it.

I remember you practicing, relentlessly. Every single day. Every time of day. Every time a cloud shifted or every time the sun came in from a different angle, you were practicing. Taking pictures of our dogs, our nephew, trips to the bay and whatever other randomness you could think of. I recollect all this so specifically because it was at this time, ironically, that I was reading a book on the thesis of being successful. It was entitled Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell (you remember?). An award-winning publication, in it Mr. Gladwell writes about the art of practice as it pertains to expertise:

The idea that excellence at performing a complex task requires a critical minimum level of practice surfaces again and again in studies of expertise. In fact, researchers have settled on what they believe is the magic number for true expertise: ten thousand hours.

My eyes trickled across that excerpt when you were outside trying to find some “sun flare” shots or something like that. And I just remember thinking to myself, “10,000 hours.   That’s a lot of [F-word insert] hours to master sun flare. “ 10,000—that’s 1,250 eight hour work days…3.5 years of practice! So humbling yet so motivating. I knew you had found your occupational challenge.

I remember you shooting your first wedding, for free. Just for the opportunity to practice some more and to start constructing a portfolio. You were so thankful for James and Anna for giving you the opportunity.

Then I remember your Facebook business page starting out, the struggle was crazy trying to get to 100 likes.

I remember all of the YouTube videos you played over and over to teach yourself new skills.

Finally, I remember me scraping pennies together in my bank account to buy you a new camera. Just because I didn’t want your development to slow down, you were so motivated it was contagious.

Fast forward to now Liz, and look at you. Look at where you have come from. You are at a huge cornerstone of your life and career. I am so proud of you, so proud to be your husband. I know Ocean Lakes High School and her students will miss you, but I am so pumped to watch you continue to grow and develop into the wedding photographer you aim so highly to be. I am proud that our daughter Gracie will one day be able to sit next to you, and you will be able to tell her how you went from working 3 jobs to doing what you love as a career. What you have done has required the upmost commitment, dedication, and perseverance. You need to know that.

Your schedule is so full and stacked now with photo-shoots, forums, meetings and lord knows what else that you put so much pressure on yourself to meet expectations, and rightfully so. Setting goals and meeting them is what has gotten you to this point in time. Just understand that you will do fine babe, your progression will be exponential and we all believe in you. I know this because that table waiting, substitute teaching, field hockey coaching woman I met 7 years ago still has that hunger in her eye. I see it everyday and it doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon. You’ll be fine. I love you.

I’m just glad you’ll only have one job now so you can get those 10,000 hours in on that sun flare you’ve been practicing for so long…

Peace and Carpe Diem!

Photo by Amanda Hedgepeth Photography