When Another Photographer’s Photos Make You Doubt Yourself

You do a test shoot with a model who messaged you months earlier, telling you she’d be visiting the Philippines. When she finally arrived, everything went well. The shoot felt effortless, the photos turned out beautifully, and you even did her makeup yourself. You were genuinely proud of the entire session.

You edited a few images, sent them to her, and later she posted them on Instagram. Once again, you felt proud.

Then, a few days later, she posted another set of photos—this time from a shoot with another photographer.

They looked incredible.

Suddenly, the confidence you felt disappeared. You started asking yourself uncomfortable questions.

How did the other photographer do so much better than I did? Why do their photos look so much stronger than mine? What did I miss?

You tell yourself not to compare your work with others. But then another voice argues that maybe you should compare if you want to improve.

Two conflicting thoughts, pulling you in opposite directions.

Has this ever happened to you?

How did it make you feel? More importantly, how did you get over it?

It happens to me more often than I’d like to admit. Sometimes I even personally know the photographers whose work makes me question my own. I’ll see the model post their images after mine, and suddenly it feels as if my photos have been forgotten.

Ironically, I also see photographers post images that, in my opinion, don’t represent the quality of work they’re actually capable of. I know they can do much better, yet those are the photos they choose to share.

For a long time, I was afraid of what people would think about my work. Every post felt like it needed approval.

Over time, though, something changed.

I began to understand who I am as a photographer. I learned to trust my own taste and recognize what genuinely reflects my artistic vision. I know when I’ve had a great session that produced meaningful images, and I also know when a shoot simply didn’t work. That honest evaluation is enough for me.

Everything else—the likes, the comments, the comparisons—is simply other people’s reactions. They no longer define the value of my work.

Knowing who you are as an artist, and staying true to the kind of images that represent your creative imagination, becomes your shield against self-destruction.

Do I still feel a sting when I see photographs that are better than mine?

Absolutely.

But today, that feeling lasts only for a moment. My appreciation for excellent work has become stronger than my insecurity.

And I think that’s a much healthier place to create from.

Keep on shooting everyone!