If you’re a creative, you’ve probably had this thought at least once:

Man, it would be nice to have something stable.

Predictable income.
Predictable schedule.
Predictable future.

After running my own photography business for years, I got recruited by a corporate real estate media company. And honestly? It sounded like the answer to every stress point I had.

No more chasing leads.
No more slow-season anxiety.
No more wondering where the next booking would come from.

Just show up. Shoot. Get paid.

So I stepped away from my business.

Two years later… I got laid off.

And I had to rebuild the very thing I once thought I needed relief from.

This isn’t a “corporate is bad” story. And it’s not a “self-employment is perfect” story either.

It’s about control. Responsibility. And where real security actually lives.

Why I Left My Own Business

Owning a photography business sounds creative.

In reality? It’s operational.

You’re not just taking photos. You’re:

  • marketing constantly

  • answering emails daily

  • editing late at night

  • managing client expectations

  • worrying about slow months

There’s no clocking out.

After a while, the heavy part isn’t photography — it’s carrying the responsibility of the entire machine.

So when the corporate offer came, it felt like relief.

Consistent volume.
No advertising.
No selling.
Predictable pay.

For the first time in years, I could just focus on being a photographer.

And if I’m being honest… I trusted that structure more than I trusted myself.

Life Inside Corporate Photography

Corporate real estate photography is built for efficiency.

You show up to scheduled properties.
You follow clear standards.
You deliver consistent results.

It works.

For two years everything felt solid.

My speed improved.
My workflow tightened up.
My technical consistency leveled up.

But slowly, something shifted.

I wasn’t building my name anymore.
I was building theirs.

Comfort replaced responsibility.

And I didn’t realize at the time that responsibility had been the very thing protecting my independence.

The Layoff

Then the market shifted.

Volume slowed.
Budgets tightened.
Departments changed.

After two years, I sat in a meeting and heard all the usual corporate phrases:

“Restructuring.”
“Downsizing.”
“Operational changes.”

And just like that — it was over.

The job I chose for stability disappeared.

The hard part wasn’t just losing the paycheck.

It was realizing I hadn’t eliminated risk…

I had just handed control to someone else.

Starting My Photography Business Again

Restarting a business is different than starting one for the first time.

You’re not naive.
You’re aware.

Some old clients had moved on.
Some assumed I left photography altogether.
Some relationships had gone cold.

So I kept it simple.

I told people I was available again.

No big announcement.
No dramatic rebrand.
No “grand reopening.”

Just consistency.

Slowly, conversations started again.
Then inquiries.
Then bookings.

And this time, my mindset was different.

What I Learned

This whole experience forced me to rethink what I thought was “secure.”

My trust was misplaced.

I was afraid of working for myself…

When the real uncertainty was working for someone else.

A company decides when you’re valuable.
And they decide when you’re no longer valuable.

That’s not bitterness. That’s structure.

Employment feels stable because responsibility is shared.
But control isn’t.

So I shifted what I trust.

Trust yourself.
Value yourself.

And this became very clear:

You should fear what others can choose to do with your career more than you fear what you’re capable of building on your own.

When you work for yourself, risk is visible.
When you depend entirely on someone else, risk is hidden.

Building It the Second Time

The second time around, I didn’t rebuild the same business.

I built a clearer one.

I stopped trying to photograph everything.
I focused on defined services and repeatable solutions.

Corporate experience gave me efficiency.
Owning my business again gave me control.

Put those together — and the business became stronger than before.

Ironically, it ended up feeling more stable than the job I left for “stability.”

Final Thought

Leaving my business felt safe at the time.

Getting laid off after two years proved it wasn’t.

Rebuilding taught me this:

Security isn’t where risk disappears.

It’s where control lives.

If you’re starting over — or thinking about betting on yourself — you’re not choosing chaos.

You’re choosing responsibility for your direction.

And sometimes that responsibility is the most solid foundation you can stand on.

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Mental Health and Photography