Wedding photography looks like an easy job to get into. And, in a way, it is. You just need a camera. No qualifications, no gatekeeping—just an entry point with a low barrier.
It looks like easy money too. One wedding might pay what someone earns in a week elsewhere, for what appears to be just a day’s work. A lot of money for showing up and pressing a button.
But what people don’t see is that wedding photography is physical. You’re carrying gear, running on adrenaline, always moving. You’re using your mind, your senses, your body—anticipating moments, problem-solving in real time, reading people, adapting to weather, light, chaos. It’s full-on.
And beyond that, sustaining a business is another battle. A lot of photographers make it to five years in before they hit a wall. They’ve raised their prices steadily as their work improves, they’ve ridden the wave of bookings, but eventually, they reach a ceiling. Fewer inquiries. Fewer couples willing to pay.
That’s when you start hearing, “Oh, I only do 10 weddings a year now.” Often, that’s not a choice—it’s a pivot. They stop getting booked at their higher price, so they diversify. Leading workshops, hosting podcasts, running styled shoots, teaching others how to succeed in a market they’re struggling to survive in themselves.
The Trap of Feeling Important
Then there’s the next trap: feeling important.
Photographers start getting handed thousands of pounds per job. They get fawned over by clients and vendors—people calling them amazing, incredible, a genius. And if you’re not careful, you start to believe it.
It’s not healthy.
The “you’re a wizard with a camera” high is short-lived, and suddenly you’re out here thinking you’re Cartier-Bresson, charging luxury prices, and wondering why nobody is booking you.
Weddings can be emotionally heightened, and if you let praise + easy money go unchecked, it warps your sense of reality. You start marketing to the wrong people—other photographers, not couples. You start prioritizing industry approval over genuine connection with clients. And suddenly, your business isn’t built for longevity—it’s built for validation.
You need something to keep you grounded. Family, a partner, good friends—people who will remind you to shut up and take out the bins instead of letting you spiral into thinking your every shot belongs in the Tate Modern.
The Long Game is Referrals
Wedding photography isn’t a one-time sale business—it’s a network effect. You do good work, clients talk, you get referred. It’s the most trusted way to book couples.
But that only works if you build consistently. If your pricing, brand, and experience shift too wildly from one year to the next, those referral chains break.
Take pricing. If you charged £1200 one year and £2000 the next, the clients you shot for last year aren’t sending their engaged friends your way anymore because your pricing feels disconnected.
And yeah, yeah, I know—“But my work is better now!” It probably is. But nobody likes a plot twist in pricing. You’re asking clients to follow a pricing arc that makes no sense to them, and then you’re shocked when they don’t bite.
But if you build slowly, your price increases make sense. A couple books you, you shoot their wedding, and by the time their friend inquires, you’ve done another full season of weddings. That’s real growth, not a sudden jump.
On That Note…
Speaking of not crossing client/photographer boundaries and marketing to the wrong audience, I’m really loving Substack.
It finally feels like a safe space where I can share experiences and thoughts without past and future clients wandering in and disengaging.
There’s so much pressure on photographers to stay “on brand” online—to always post perfect work, to never say the wrong thing, to always look like a thriving business. But here? I can talk about the reality of it.
Is This Engaging Though?
I try to be positive and grateful, but sometimes I wonder—do people actually want to hear about building a solid business? Is talking about hiring the right designer, getting pricing right, and staying grounded boring?
Or do Substack readers prefer the raw, behind-the-scenes insight—the parts of wedding photography people don’t talk about?
Let’s talk.