Not Intimidated, Just Here to Work: My First Tough Experience as a Female Photographer


Being a female in a male-dominated field is often described as empowering, and it can be. There’s something deeply gratifying about showing up, lens in hand, ready to capture the moment with just as much skill and vision as the next person. But what people don’t talk about as often is the pain. The resistance. The subtle (and not so subtle) ways your presence is challenged simply because you exist in a space someone else thought belonged to them.


This is the story of my first bad experience, and the lessons I’m carrying with me because of it.


I was assigned to capture an event. Standard stuff for me, I showed up early, prepped, scoped out the venue, and began working. The room was filled with male photographers, and I quickly realized I was the only female behind the camera that day. That alone isn’t new. But what happened next… was.


There was a guy. I didn’t know him, but as soon as our eyes met, his energy was off. You know when someone doesn’t need to say a word for you to feel their disapproval? That. It was like my being there threatened him.


As I was shooting, he made a very deliberate move: walked past me, though there was plenty of room, and brushed me, hard enough for it to feel intentional. I was stunned for a second. Not because I couldn’t handle myself, but because I couldn’t believe someone would go out of their way to physically assert dominance in a space meant for collaboration. I didn’t react outwardly, but inside, it stung.


Fast forward one week later. Different event. Same guy. The moment I saw him, I felt that knot in my stomach.


At this event, there was another female creative, a videographer, and we connected briefly. She turned to me and said something that stuck:

"I hope they leave room for us. People love to ignore photographers and videographers and step right in front of the camera."

I nodded and added, “Yeah, I hope so too. But it’s even worse when you’re short!”

We both laughed, but there was truth in the joke.


Not long after, guess who planted himself directly in front of me while I was trying to get my shot? Yep, same photographer from last week. And in that moment, I felt the rage bubble up.


I said calmly but firmly, "Remember that you're tall."

His response was rude, dismissive.

But I said what needed to be said.


And here’s the thing, it hurt. These moments do. I didn’t want to spend my day navigating ego and passive aggression. I just wanted to do my job. But this is the reality sometimes.


And still, I refuse to shrink.


What I’ve learned is that these moments, as painful and annoying as they are, remind me why I need to keep showing up. Not for the ones who try to make me feel small, but for the ones watching. For the women coming behind me. For the little girls who will one day pick up a camera and want to know they can stand in any room with it.


I don’t need to prove I belong. I just need to show up and do what I do. The rest will speak for itself.


So to every woman navigating the tension of being “the only one” in the room, I see you. You are not alone, and you’re not imagining it, some people will be uncomfortable with your presence but don’t let that stop you.


Let it fuel you. Let it remind you that spaces need to evolve. And you? You’re part of that shift.


Here’s to holding the lens steady, even when the room shakes.