Hey friends,

I have a confession to make: I’m a hoarder.

Not of stuff, really. Not of clothes or knick-knacks or random junk that clutters up my house.

But of thank you notes? Absolutely.

Every single one. Every card, every text screenshot, every Facebook message, every handwritten note that a client has ever sent me – I keep them all.

And today I want to tell you why.

The Wall in My Office

There’s a wall in my office that tells a story. (And a box under my desk.)

It’s covered with thank you cards from clients over the years. Cards from parents whose kids I photographed. Messages from seniors who loved their photos. Notes from families who trusted me to capture their most important moments.

And next to that wall? A shelf filled with gifts. Coffee mugs. Framed photos. Gift cards. And my absolute favorites – baseballs signed by the teams I’ve photographed.

On the hard days – and there are hard days – I look at that wall and that shelf.

And I remember why I do this.

Because Some Days Are Really Hard

Let’s be real for a second: running your own business is hard.

There are days when I wonder if I’m good enough. Days when I compare myself to other photographers and feel like I’m falling short. Days when the bookings are slow and the bills are piling up and I question everything.

There are days when I feel like giving up. Days when going back to a regular 9-to-5 job sounds easier and safer and less terrifying.

And on those days, I need reminders of why I started this in the first place.

That’s what that wall is. That’s what those signed baseballs are. They’re reminders that what I do matters. That I’m making a difference. That someone’s life is better because I showed up with my camera.

The First Thank You Note I Ever Got

I still have the very first thank you note a client ever sent me.

It was from a mom whose kids I’d photographed at a local park. I was just starting out, still figuring out my camera settings, still nervous about whether I was any good at this.

She sent me a card in the mail – an actual physical card with a handwritten note inside. She told me how much her kids loved the session, how the photos captured their personalities perfectly, how she’d been looking for a photographer who made them feel comfortable.

She said I had a gift.

I cried when I read it. Because I didn’t feel like I had a gift. I felt like I was fumbling my way through, hoping I didn’t mess everything up.

But she saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself yet. And that note gave me the courage to keep going.

That card is on my wall now. And I still read it sometimes when I need that reminder.

They’re Proof That I’m Not Failing

Here’s something I struggle with: imposter syndrome.

Even after all these years, even after hundreds of sessions and thousands of photos, there’s still a voice in my head that says, “You’re not a real photographer. You’re just faking it. Everyone’s going to figure out you don’t know what you’re doing.”

It’s ridiculous, I know. But that voice is loud sometimes.

And when it gets too loud, I look at that wall of thank you notes.

Because they’re proof. Actual, tangible proof that I’m not failing. That people value what I do. That I’m making an impact.

They’re evidence that the voice in my head is lying.

The Texts I Screenshot

It’s not just the handwritten cards and formal thank you notes. I screenshot text messages too.

The ones that say, “OMG I’m crying, these are perfect!”

The ones that say, “You captured my kid exactly as they are, thank you so much.”

The ones that say, “I didn’t think I could look beautiful in photos, but you made me feel gorgeous.”

I screenshot them all and save them in a folder on my phone. And when I need a reminder that I’m doing okay, I scroll through them.

Because those spontaneous, in-the-moment reactions? Those are just as meaningful as the formal thank you notes.

Maybe even more so, because they’re raw and real and unfiltered.

The Signed Baseballs

Can we talk about the baseballs for a second?

I have a shelf in my office dedicated to gifts from clients. And my absolute favorite gifts are the baseballs signed by the teams I’ve photographed.

Every signature represents a player I captured in action. A moment I froze in time. A memory I helped preserve.

Those baseballs sit on my shelf, and every time I look at them, I think about the games. The energy. The excitement. The parents cheering in the stands. The kids giving it their all on the field.

I think about being trusted to document their season. To capture the hits, the catches, the celebrations, the team spirit.

And I feel so honored that they thought to give me a baseball. That they took the time to have the whole team sign it. That they wanted me to have a piece of their season.

Those baseballs aren’t just gifts. They’re proof that I was there. That I was part of something bigger than myself.

Because I Forget How Much It Matters

When you do something every day, it’s easy to forget how special it is.

Photography is my job. It’s what I do week after week, session after session. And sometimes it starts to feel routine.

I show up, I take photos, I edit them, I deliver them. Rinse and repeat.

But for my clients? It’s not routine. It’s their senior year. It’s their family photos. It’s their wedding day. It’s their last game of the season.

It’s a big deal.

And those thank you notes on my wall remind me of that. Those signed baseballs remind me of that. They remind me that what feels ordinary to me is extraordinary to them.

They help me see my work through their eyes instead of my own jaded, seen-it-a-thousand-times perspective.

The Note from a Senior Rep

One of my senior reps sent me a thank you note at the end of the year that I’ll never forget.

She wrote about how being a rep had changed her confidence. How she’d always felt awkward and uncomfortable in front of the camera, but I’d made her feel beautiful. How she’d learned to see herself differently through the photos I took of her.

She said I didn’t just take her pictures – I helped her see her own worth.

Y’all, I was not prepared for that level of emotional impact.

I thought I was just taking senior photos. I didn’t realize I was helping a teenage girl learn to love herself.

But that’s what happened. And she took the time to tell me.

That note is on my wall. And it reminds me that photography isn’t just about the images. It’s about the experience. The relationship. The way people feel when they’re in front of my camera.

They’re My Why

Everyone talks about finding your “why” – the reason you do what you do.

My why is on that wall. On that shelf.

It’s in every thank you note, every kind message, every expression of gratitude from someone whose life I touched with my camera. It’s in every signed baseball, every thoughtful gift, every token of appreciation.

My why is making people feel seen and valued and beautiful. It’s capturing memories that matter. It’s showing up for the moments that count.

And when I forget that – when I get caught up in the business side of things or the comparison trap or the fear that I’m not good enough – I look at that wall and that shelf.

And they bring me back. They remind me of my why.

The Facebook Comments I Save

It’s not just private messages either. Sometimes people leave comments on Facebook posts that make my whole day.

“You’re so talented!”

“These photos are absolutely stunning!”

“You captured the essence of who my kid is – thank you!”

I screenshot those too. Because public praise is just as meaningful as private thank yous.

And on the days when I’m feeling invisible or underappreciated or like nobody cares about what I’m doing, I scroll through those screenshots and remember: people do care. People do notice. People do appreciate the work I put in.

Because Gratitude Is Rare

Here’s a sad truth: most people don’t say thank you.

Not because they’re ungrateful, but because they’re busy. Because life moves fast. Because they assume you already know they appreciated your work.

So when someone takes the time to actually write a thank you note or send a message or leave a comment expressing their gratitude? That’s special.

When a team takes the time to sign a baseball for me? That’s incredibly special.

That’s someone who paused their busy life to acknowledge you. To tell you that what you did mattered to them.

And that deserves to be honored. Remembered. Kept.

Displayed on a wall where I can see it every single day.

The Note That Came Years Later

A few months ago, I got a message from someone I’d photographed five years earlier.

She told me she’d just been going through old photos and came across the ones I’d taken of her family. Her kids were so much younger then. Her life looked completely different.

And she wanted to thank me for capturing that moment in time. For giving her a window back into a season of life that felt like a lifetime ago.

She said those photos were some of her most treasured possessions.

Five years later, and she still thought about those photos. Still valued them. Still felt grateful.

That’s the kind of impact I want to have. The kind that lasts.

And that message? I printed it out and added it to my wall.

They Help Me Through the Slow Seasons

Every photographer has slow seasons. Times when the bookings dry up and the calendar looks empty and the panic starts to set in.

During those times, it’s easy to spiral. To think, “Nobody wants to book with me. I’m not good enough. My business is failing.”

But then I look at my wall of thank you notes and my shelf of gifts, and I remember: people do want to book with me. I am good enough. My business isn’t failing – it’s just in a slow season.

Those notes and gifts are evidence of my value. Proof that I have something to offer. Reminders that this is just a temporary lull, not a permanent reality.

They help me hold on until the busy season comes back around.

Because Words Matter

We live in a world where negativity is loud and criticism is constant.

One negative comment can stick with you for days. One harsh critique can shake your confidence for weeks.

But positive words? Those matter too. Maybe even more.

Those thank you notes on my wall are positive words that I can look at again and again. They’re encouragement I can revisit whenever I need it.

They’re proof that kindness exists. That people appreciate good work. That gratitude is real.

And in a world that can feel pretty harsh sometimes, that matters.

The Note I’ll Never Forget

There’s one thank you note on my wall that stands out above all the others.

It’s from a mom whose son I photographed for his senior photos. He was shy, a little awkward, not super comfortable in front of the camera.

But we had a great session. He opened up, we laughed, and I got some shots I was really proud of.

A few weeks later, his mom sent me a card. She told me that her son had struggled with self-esteem issues for years. That he’d never felt good about himself, never felt like he was enough.

But when he saw his senior photos, something shifted. He saw himself differently. He looked at those images and thought, “Maybe I’m not so bad after all.”

She said I’d given him a gift he didn’t even know he needed: the ability to see his own worth.

I still cry when I read that note.

Because that’s what this is all about. Not just taking pretty pictures, but helping people see themselves the way I see them – as valuable, worthy, beautiful.

The Gift Shelf

Beyond the baseballs, I have other gifts on that shelf too.

Coffee mugs, candles and a slew of photos. Framed prints of photos I took that clients loved so much they wanted me to have a copy too. Gift cards with sweet notes attached.

Each one represents a moment when someone thought of me. When they wanted to give me something to show their appreciation.

And every single one of those gifts means the world to me.

Because they’re not just things. They’re tangible expressions of gratitude. They’re proof that I made someone’s day better. That I gave them something they valued.

What I Hope You’ll Do

If you’ve ever worked with someone who made a difference in your life – a photographer, a teacher, a coach, a mentor, anyone – tell them.

Send the thank you note. Write the message. Leave the comment. Give them a small gift if you can.

You have no idea how much it might mean to them. How much they might need to hear it. How long they might hold onto those words. How proudly they might display that gift.

Your gratitude could be the thing that keeps them going on a hard day. The reminder they need that their work matters.

Don’t assume they already know. Tell them. Show them.

Why I’ll Keep Doing This

As long as I’m a photographer, I’ll keep adding to that wall and that shelf.

Because they’re not just nice words on paper or thoughtful gifts on a shelf. They’re reminders of why I started this journey. They’re proof that I’m making a difference. They’re evidence that this work matters.

They’re my why, captured in ink and pixels and heartfelt words. In signed baseballs and coffee mugs and framed photos.

And on the days when I want to give up, when I wonder if any of this is worth it, I’ll look at that wall and that shelf and remember:

It is worth it. It always has been.

Have you ever sent a thank you note or given a gift to someone who made a difference in your life? I’d love to hear about it.

Until next time, Alisha – The Camera Lady 📸

To everyone who’s ever taken the time to say thank you or give a gift: you have no idea how much it meant. Thank you for the gift of your gratitude.