Photography brings a lot of joy, but it also comes with its own set of frustrations. And when you’ve been doing this for a long time, you start to realize those frustrations are just part of the journey. Today, I want to walk through a few of the ones every photographer faces, so you know you’re not the only one feeling them.
When you spend years behind the camera, you discover that photography isn’t only about beautiful moments or perfect light. It’s also about patience, obstacles, and a good amount of frustration. It’s strange to be so passionate about something and still find it maddening at times, but that feeling is more common than you might think.
One of the first frustrations is how long it takes to truly grow as an artist. Yes, we already spend plenty of time traveling, planning, setting up gear, shooting, editing, printing, and everything else that comes with the work. But the part that can be the most frustrating is the time it takes for your artistic vision to mature. Many of the world’s iconic photographers didn’t create their most famous images until their fifties or sixties. Sure, some strike gold early, but for most of us, it’s a long, slow climb. And waiting for that breakthrough isn’t always easy.
Another frustration is elitism. It shows up everywhere in this craft. Beginners buy the gear they can afford, only to run into seasoned photographers who turn up their noses because it’s not “professional” enough. Sometimes elitism shows up as resistance to new ideas. Someone insists the old methods are always better, or refuses to accept digital because it doesn’t look exactly like film. But the truth is, no format is inferior. They’re simply different tools for different visions.
Then there’s the money. Photography isn’t cheap, and sometimes you spend more than you should simply because of a name printed on a piece of gear. Anyone who has compared a generic lens cap to a branded one knows exactly what that feels like. And if your camera system gets discontinued, you often have no choice but to reinvest in new bodies and lenses. Even collecting art from other photographers can be frustrating when the price is far beyond what the piece should reasonably cost. If art becomes unaffordable for the people who love it, that takes something away from the whole experience.
Another major frustration is how rare honest critique can be. Real critique — thoughtful, detailed, specific — is one of the most valuable tools for growth. But it’s hard to get. Non-photographer friends and family mean well, but they don’t have the background to offer useful, technical feedback, and they care about you too much to be objective. Even photographer friends often hold back because they don’t want to hurt your feelings. And bias creeps in everywhere. Maybe you love a friend’s photo because it’s of your favorite butterfly, or maybe a friend doesn’t love your image because it features a color they personally dislike. True, impartial critique is surprisingly rare, and that can slow your progress.
And then there are the moments when non-photographers simply don’t understand what you do. You show someone a photograph you worked hard to create, and they say, “Wow, you must have a great camera!” It’s one of those comments that makes you grit your teeth because the camera helped, sure, but it didn’t compose the image or wait for the moment or handle the lighting. The photographer did.
There’s also the awkwardness of shooting in public spaces. People watch you. Some give you strange looks. Some assume you’re intruding on their privacy even when you’re doing nothing more than capturing the scenery around you. And every now and then someone tells you that you’re “not allowed” to take pictures in a perfectly legal public area. It gets easier to ignore over time, but that doesn’t make it any less irritating when it happens.
We all have our frustrations. These are just a few of mine. And sometimes it helps to talk about them — with friends, with fellow photographers, with anyone who understands what this craft demands. Sharing the frustrations makes the path a little smoother, and reminds us that the joy on the other side is worth every challenge.
