Why I Closed My Wedding Photography Business
Let’s go back to 2016. I was a reluctant Admin Manager for an unnamed authority. I had started straight out of school, worked my way up to supervisor by 23, and by 29, I was a manager. Having been in the authority since I was 17, I had grown weary or should I say more than weary. I was miserable. I would even go as far as to say I was depressed.
Back then, I didn’t know I was neurodivergent. I just knew I suffered from extreme anxiety and barely functioned in my job. I mostly hid behind my desk, avoiding face-to-face interaction whenever possible. Emails were my safe space. My intelligence and hyper-organisation got me to management level, and I was the kind of employee higher-ups liked. I was quiet, obedient, and compliant. But inside, I was a ball of anxiety, social exhaustion, and frustration.
My job paid well, but I was miserable. Something had to change.
Taking the Leap
Leaving a stable career for mental health reasons wasn’t widely accepted back in 2016. At the time, conversations about anxiety were only just becoming more public, and the older generations didn’t quite understand. After 13 years of service, I was made to feel ashamed for walking away. But I knew I had to.
Throughout those years, I had been nurturing a passion for photography. It started as a hobby photographing weekend rockstars in small Glasgow venues but I wanted to make it a career. Music photography didn’t pay, so I took the next logical step: weddings.
That was my first mistake… choosing a career path based on profit rather than passion.
The Truth is … I Don’t Love Weddings
I could make it look like I loved weddings, but deep down, I felt like a fraud. The reality was that big weddings weren’t my thing.
As a neurodivergent person, they were never a special interest of mine. I had no grand visions of a big wedding for myself, I had attended only a handful of weddings as a guest in my lifetime, and had been a bridesmaid just once. But financially, it made sense, so I pushed forward, building a wedding and portrait photography business.
Don’t get me wrong… over the years, I met some incredible couples, families, and small businesses. I made genuine friends with like-minded creatives. But...
I’m an introvert. Weddings are highly social, and masking as an extrovert for 8-12 hours straight left me exhausted.
Crowded, loud spaces drain me. Alcohol-fueled celebrations aren’t my comfort zone.
I was constantly “masking.” I played the role of “The Photographer” I appeared bubbly, confident and outgoing. But it was all an act, and the mental toll was overwhelming.
Once I became a mother, the long hours away from my daughter became unbearable. I wanted to be home with her, not stuck at a wedding reception pretending to enjoy the party.
The Editing Nightmare
Wedding photography doesn’t end when the last dance is over. The real work begins in post-production.
Thousands of images to sort through – A typical wedding day meant shooting over 5,000 images. I had to painstakingly cull them down to 900+ final images.
Hours upon hours of editing – Each photo required detailed color correction and creative editing. A "sneak peek" of 30 images had to be ready within days, and the rest of the 900+ had to be fully edited within weeks.
Decision paralysis & perfectionism – Editing became torture for my neurodivergent brain. The pressure to conform to a “wedding photography style” made me feel inauthentic, and spending 40+ hours per wedding editing photos for others left me with zero time for my personal photography.
Over time, I fell out of love with editing and eventually, with photography itself.
The Challenges of Running a Business as a Neurodivergent Person…
Looking back, I can see how my neurodivergence made running a business incredibly challenging.
Executive dysfunction – I rely on lists, planners, and step-by-step guides to get through my day. Without structure, my brain struggles to prioritise tasks. Emails were a nightmare. The buildup of unread messages left me completely overwhelmed.
Time blindness – Managing time and meeting deadlines was a constant battle. The weight of unfinished tasks, like unedited galleries, felt suffocating.
Social media fatigue – As someone who values privacy, I began to resent using social media for marketing. My business required my presence on platforms I personally didn’t align with. I also developed strong feelings about using clients’ images for marketing and if I didn’t feel comfortable sharing my own child’s face online, why was I comfortable using other people’s children to sell my services? It felt wrong.
Motherhood Changed Everything
I know plenty of mothers who successfully balance wedding photography and parenthood, but for me, it wasn’t sustainable.
I wanted to be present. Even when I was physically with my daughter, my mind was consumed by work. I was thinking about marketing, analytics, editing deadlines, rebranding. My business stole my mental presence.
Weddings took me away for too long. A single wedding meant a 10+ hour day away from home, followed by 40+ hours of editing. That’s time I didn’t want to lose.
I was exhausted. My daughter has never been a great sleeper, which meant I was always running on empty. Trying to be creative while exhausted was impossible.
A cluttered mind, a cluttered space. The constant stress of unfinished edits loomed over me, and I struggled to justify locking myself away to work when there were dishes to clean, meals to prep, and moments to savor with my family.
Choosing a Slower, More Intentional Life
In the end, I realised something crucial: I needed to live within my own capabilities, not constantly push myself beyond them.
My neurodivergence isn’t something to fight against, it’s something to understand and accommodate. And for me, that means living a slow, intentional life, one that allows me to feel at peace rather than overwhelmed.
My wedding and portrait photography business no longer fit that vision. It became a stressful burden rather than a fulfilling creative pursuit. And so, I made the decision to close it.
There’s still work to wrap up, but my focus now is on what truly matters: my family, my well-being, and our life here, on a quiet island at the edge of the world.
Til Next Time | Lesley-Anne
