Why I Froze
I want to be honest about something, because it’s the most interesting part of this whole thing.
I could have skipped the shoot entirely.
I work in marketing. I know exactly what AI tools can create the best photos. Twenty seconds, a decent prompt, a headshot that looks professionally lit and expensively styled. I could have had an image that day, for free, without leaving my desk. Nobody would have known.
I thought about it, but here’s why I didn’t.
I could have had a picture, but I couldn’t have had a moment.
When I look at these photos, I can confidently say that’s me. I spent the time getting my hair and makeup done. I even swung by Maps in Garden Grove to watch Colin’s second game (he got player of the game… proud mom moment). Then I drove to Silver Lake to David’s studio carrying the clothes, jewelry, and shoes I brought to wear. I remember what it took to get to that studio that day. And I also remember being stiff and nervous. I remember not knowing what to do with my hands. I remember thinking I wanted this to be over as soon as possible. But then I also remember the part where it got easier, and I remember that it got easier because David guided me through the poses in the most caring way, and to take deep breaths along the way to help me relax.
An AI image would have given me the destination without the journey. And the journey turned out to be the entire point. I am proud of my picture because it required me to do the hard things. You can’t outsource that, no matter how good the output looks.
Which brings me back to the freeze.
Most of us only ever show ourselves one way. Not deliberately. It just happens. You settle into a version based on the titles you carry and the image you think those titles require, and it works, and people respond to it, so you keep running it.
Then you sit in front of someone who doesn’t know any of your old titles. He only knows the ones you tell him you want.
David asked me what I was going for. I said CEO. Boss Mom.
And then he pulled that out of me.
He wasn’t inventing anything. There was no Photoshop, no AI, nothing added afterward. He pointed a camera at a version of me that had been there the whole time and had never once been asked for.
So when I opened those photos, I wasn’t looking at a stranger. I was looking at something familiar I couldn’t place. That’s what made me freeze. Not “who is this,” exactly. More like, “where did she come from?”
At dinner, before I’d seen a single image, David told me friction was coming. He said to expect friction. Not maybe. Expect it.
Because everyone who knows me has been fed the same version of me for years, and I’m the one who fed it to them. So when something different shows up, they get the same jolt I got. It’s just the gap between the version they’re used to and the new picture of me I just shared.
At age 45, I’m in a place in my life where I’m allowing myself to step into the friction and step more into the new titles. I’m still nervous but what do I have to lose?
What are the new titles you want to have?
