Seeing the World Through Photography: A Mom’s Perspective

Written for the mom who’s never in the picture (literally).

Let’s just get this out of the way. I’m that mom who doesn’t exist in our family photos. I am the one who is typically holding some sort of camera. I am the reason if you flip through our family’s “highlight reel,” you won’t see sunset poses or color-coordinated outfits. No way am convincing them that was their childhood. What you will find are our outtakes. You’ll see three boys arguing about who cheated, who really scored, and my husband standing in the background laughing like he didn’t just instigate World War III in the backyard.

And yes... I’ve whined, “I’m never in any pictures!” But the truth is, I kind of love it.

See, being the photographer is like having power over our family history. I get to decide if that dramatic eye roll during a pep talk becomes part of our history or if it quietly disappears into the digital trash can. I’m the one who decides whether the moment we remember is the touchdown dance or sulking faces when little brother won… usually I stick with both.

People feel, “If you’re not in the picture, you’re not part of the memory.” But I get to be the one with the front-row seat to every meltdown, victory, and sneaky middle finger disguised as “scratch your nose.” Spoiler: it's usual the little one.

Being the family photographer is like being an unofficial commentator of household chaos. I get to replay the “friendly competition” or decide that it is way better in slow-mo or zoomed in. Hint: better stay on my good side.

And those in-between shots? Mid-laugh. Mid-eye roll. Real life is messy, loud, hilarious, but still beautiful. Those imperfect pictures are proof that real life isn’t staged. They’re love letters disguised as outtakes.

Here’s what I know: one day, my kids are going to scroll through these photos and see the world how I saw it. Not the “picture day smiles” story. The real one. The determined faces, and the “I quit!” faces, and the grins brought on by success.

They’ll see proof of their resilience. Proof that they fought hard, laughed harder, and grew up in a house where love was in every messy corner. They’ll realize Mom wasn’t “missing.” She was right there making sure their story got told. One day they will get to see the world though my eyes.

So, to every mom scrolling through your camera roll and realizing you’re basically Bigfoot, present but never photographed: own it. You’re not hiding. You’re the historian. The keeper of chaos. The one making sure those love letters get written with every click.

Smile. Click. Repeat. Because if motherhood has taught us anything, it’s this: the world is too messy, too funny, and too heartbreakingly beautiful not to notice.

~Alissa Blevins

Rise & Shine You