When You’re “Over” Your Own Photography
“I’m so over these.”
Have you ever felt that way about your own work? That moment when you're reviewing your website, looking through your hard drives, or scrolling your social media, and suddenly—you just feel bored? You look at the photos you once adored, the ones you considered your best, and now they feel… well, kind of flat and lackluster. Maybe you’re struck by the thought that this is all you’ve got. That you’ve hit a wall. You’re just over your work or style.
I recently found myself in that same place when I was reviewing old folders on my hard drive. It's a common feeling: a sense of weariness toward the work you once loved, as though it’s lost its spark. Those amazing, inspiring shots—once fresh and exciting—suddenly seem dull. And it leaves you wondering, “Is this it? Have I stopped growing?”
First, take a deep breath. It’s completely normal. It’s a phase many of us go through. When we’re immersed in our own work for a long time, it becomes so familiar that it can feel like we’ve seen it thousands of times and each time it loses its luster. We get emotionally attached to the stories behind our images—the experiences, the struggles, the emotions —and it’s easy to forget to view it with fresh eyes. We see the effort, the mistakes, the emotions at the time of creating. We’re not just looking at photos; we’re reliving those moments, and it can cloud our ability to see the work objectively.
In any romantic relationship, it’s natural for the initial excitement to fade as time passes. The honeymoon phase ends, and suddenly, what once felt exhilarating can seem a little… ordinary."Ordinary" doesn’t always have a negative connotation—it can simply mean something familiar, cozy, or comfortable. Just because your favorite photos no longer have that initial "wow" factor doesn’t mean they’ve lost their value. Like anything that once felt exciting and new, over time and through familiarity, those feelings shift into something else—not less, but different. Like all things in life that are “ordinary” or familiar, you may take them for granted when, say, someone with less skills or abilities than you would have loved to have taken that photo. We can become jaded to our own work and that’s a very normal, real feeling. But these “dull photos” are still part of your journey—they are the foundation of your growth, the stones that have built your path. They might not hold the same magic as when you first created them, but they’re still yours. They’ve helped shape the photographer you are today.
So how can you see your work differently? Try to see those images with fresh eyes, reminding yourself that at one point, you were truly proud of them. Maybe you still are, but they just feel worn with time. Even so, they hold pieces of your story and your growth. Sure, they might not all make it into your portfolio as you grow, but that doesn’t make them any less significant. They have value—your value. They’re part of who you are.
If you’re feeling stuck, if you’re feeling “over” your work, don’t worry. This is just a sign that you're ready for something new. The opposite of "old" is "new"—which means stepping into fresh experiences, learning something different, starting a new project, or exploring a genre that excites you. Maybe that means setting a fresh challenge for yourself, or taking on a collaborative project with another photographer or fellow creative. It could mean going on a spontaneous road trip to explore a new place, camera in hand, with no expectations other than to let your creativity flow. No pressure to capture perfect shots—just freedom to explore and see where your camera and intuition leads. Or maybe you reach out to a local business or bakery (anything really) and offer to provide them some fresh imagery for free? (Why free? Because the purpose in this exercise isn’t about earning money, but reinvigorating your creativity and finding your rhythm again.)
You may not come home with a new “favorite” photo, but you’ll reignite that creative spark. You’ll begin to break free from the rut of feeling like you’re stuck in the past. You can only feel “over” something when there’s nowhere to go or nothing to gain from whatever it may be. But when you find new creative fuel, even in personal projects, you start to look forward again. You shift your focus from what your work used to be to how it’s evolving. It can be a fluid, messy, process with no clear direction on where you’re headed creatively.
It’s okay to feel stuck or to feel “over” your work. But don’t stay there too long. It’s completely natural to feel like you need a break and set your camera aside for a while. If that’s how you’re feeling, it’s okay to take that time for yourself. But I believe when I’m stuck in a rut, the only way forward is to try something new. A new technique, a new challenge, a new genre, a new project. Move lightly ahead with self compassion, but without force . Because if you stay in that place, it will only deepen the rut and stifle your creativity. Feeling “over” your work is a signal that there’s room to grow, to learn, to challenge yourself.
It’s a sign to refresh, to reframe, and to expand. And maybe, in the future, when you look back at those photos that once felt boring, you’ll see them in a new light—as a reflection of a past version of yourself, a moment in time that helped you become the photographer you are today.
I wish you a bright and abundant 2025!
Alanna
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