Over the years, we’ve found ourselves naturally stepping into mentorship.
It started after our WPPI talks – conversations that continued long after we stepped off stage. Questions about breaking into the wedding world. About pricing, sustainability, burnout, growth. About how to build something meaningful, not just busy. Eventually, those conversations became more formal, and if you’ve been following us for a few years, you know we quietly mentor a small number of wedding professionals from around the world each year.
We talk about the practical things – business foundations, finances, industry dynamics, working with planners, international expansion, work permits, opening branches abroad. The real nuts and bolts of building a career in this space.
But what often surprises us is where the conversations really go.
In one-on-one sessions, people open up. About things not moving fast enough. About feeling stuck. About wondering whether they’re growing at all. About that unsettling space between effort and outcome.
This past month, in the middle of our own busy season – with our first weddings of the year wrapped and deep planning underway for spring – those conversations stayed with us. Sometimes, our mentees unknowingly give us the pause we don’t think we have time for. Their questions make us stop. Reflect. Take stock of where we are, too.
So we took a few of those recurring thoughts from our recent sessions and wrote them down here.
Not as answers. Just as perspective.
Because sometimes, just because it’s taking time doesn’t mean it’s not happening.
Forgive Yourself for Not Knowing Earlier What Only Time Could Teach
This one comes up every January. With mentees. With couples. With ourselves.
We worked with a couple last autumn who decided to elope last minute in Japan. The planning time was intense – we squeezed them into our schedule, but it meant compressed timelines and quick decisions. They spent every planning zoom apologizing. “We should have known sooner what we wanted.” “We wasted so much time planning the wrong wedding.”
But here’s what we told them: you can’t know what an elopement in a bamboo forest feels like until you’re standing in one. You can’t understand the relief of an intimate day until you’ve experienced the weight of planning something you don’t actually want.
That version of you – the one planning the big wedding – isn’t wrong. That version is how you got here.
We see the same thing with our mentees. Young photographers and planners entering the wedding industry, making mistakes we made fifteen years ago. Underpricing. Overcommitting. Saying yes to everything. Burning out before they’ve even begun.
Part of us wants to save them from it. To hand them everything we know now and spare them the hard lessons.
But we also know: that’s not how this works. Experience is what builds you. We wish we could have known then what we know now. But we wouldn’t know it now if we hadn’t lived through then.
It’s tempting to replay old decisions with new knowledge. To wonder why we didn’t move faster, see clearer, choose differently. But growth doesn’t work in reverse. You only understand certain things once you’ve lived them.
There’s nothing wrong with who you were when you didn’t know yet. That version of you is the reason you know now.
Life Feels Better When You Care More About How It Feels Than How It Looks
This hits harder the longer you do creative work publicly.
It’s easy to build a life that looks impressive on paper – travel, projects, milestones, highlights. It takes more honesty to build one that actually feels good day to day.
The older we get, the more we notice this shift in ourselves and in our couples. The question quietly changes from “does this look amazing?” to “does this feel like us?”
And when those two things align, that’s where the magic usually lives.
You Can Be the Most Beautiful Blue… But That Won’t Matter If Their Favorite Color Is Red
Not everything is meant for everyone.
We learned this early in our career. We’d present couples with beautiful venues, impeccable credentials, stunning portfolios. And sometimes they’d say no. Not because the venue wasn’t incredible – it was. Just not right for them.
The same thing happens in mentorship. A photographer will ask, “How do I get clients like yours?” And sometimes the answer is: you don’t. Because your clients aren’t our clients. Your blue is someone else’s red.
This applies to work, relationships, vendors, seasons of life. You don’t need to contort yourself to fit every room. You just need to find the ones where you already belong.
The right people – the right couples, the right collaborators, the right opportunities – don’t need convincing. They recognize you immediately.
Your Future Needs You. Your Past Doesn’t.
There’s a lot of nostalgia floating around right now. Ten-year reflections. Old photos. “Where were you then?” moments.
Looking back can be grounding. But living there too long can quietly stall you.
You don’t owe your past a constant explanation. The future is where your attention is actually useful.
There Was Freedom When the Phone Was Tied to a Wire
We don’t want to romanticize the past too much – progress is progress.
But there was something freeing about not being reachable at all times. About boredom. About space. About not narrating every moment as it happened.
We see couples struggle with this on their wedding days. The urge to post. To check. To perform the day in real time instead of just living it. The best weddings we’ve planned are the ones where couples put their phones away entirely. Where they trust us to document it and just… exist in it.
January conversations remind us to put some of that back in on purpose. To be less available. More present. Even if just a little.
For couples planning weddings: consider a phone-free ceremony. Or a phone-free cocktail hour. Not as a rule, just as a gift to yourselves.
For creatives building businesses: you don’t owe anyone instant access. Protect your attention like you’d protect your work.
Don’t Fall in Love With the Flower If You’re Not Willing to Love the Root
This one feels especially relevant in weddings, relationships, and business.
Couples fall in love with the idea of a destination wedding in Japan. The imagery. The cherry blossoms. The romance of it all. And then they realize what it actually takes – logistics, timelines, international coordination, cultural navigation, guest management from 10,000 miles away.
Some couples love that part too. The planning becomes part of the adventure. Others realize they wanted the flower without the root. And that’s okay – better to know early.
The same applies to building a creative business. Everyone wants the beautiful portfolio, the dream clients, the international work. Fewer people want the years of unglamorous hustle underneath it.
The visible part is easy to admire. The unseen work underneath – the patience, the care, the commitment – is what actually holds things up.
Beauty lasts longer when it’s supported by something real.
Spend Money on Adventures. Be Cautious About Spending Your Life Only Going to Work
This isn’t about being reckless. It’s about being intentional.
The moments that stay with you rarely come from efficiency. They come from choosing experience over routine, occasionally stepping sideways instead of forward.
Years pass quickly. Stories don’t.
I Don’t Have a Favorite Place. I Have Favorite People.
This might be the clearest thought of all.
Places are incredible. Landscapes matter. Travel changes us. But every place becomes something else entirely when the right people are there with you.
That’s true in life. And it’s true in the weddings we plan and photograph.
What If It’s Not About How Long Something Lasts, But What It Means While It Does?
Duration isn’t the same as significance.
A wedding day is over in hours. Some couples spend a year planning it. Others, just a few months. Either way, the day itself is brief. But those hours carry weight that compounds over a lifetime.
We see couples agonize over this. “Is it worth all this effort for one day?” And we always say: yes. Because it’s not just one day. It’s the day everything changes. The day you look back on when you need to remember why you chose this person, this life, this path.
Some things stay for decades. Some things stay for an afternoon. Both can matter equally.
The same is true in business. A 90-minute mentorship call can shift someone’s perspective for months. A five-minute conversation at a workshop can change a career trajectory.
The question isn’t always “how long will this last?” Sometimes it’s just “does this mean something right now?”
And if the answer is yes, that’s often enough.
Growth Isn’t Loud. Most of the Time, It’s Just You Continuing.
This is the one we come back to most often.
Growth doesn’t announce itself with fanfare. It doesn’t always feel like progress in the moment. Sometimes it just looks like showing up again. Doing the work. Making the next decision. Staying in it when nothing seems to be moving.
That’s growth too. The unsexy kind. The kind that only makes sense when you look back and realize how far you’ve actually come.
You don’t need to feel transformed every day. You just need to keep going.
You Don’t Need Certainty to Move Forward. You Just Need Enough Courage to Take the Next Step.
Certainty is a luxury most of us don’t get.
We make decisions with incomplete information. We choose paths without knowing where they lead. We commit to things before we feel ready.
And somehow, that’s how most good things happen.
Waiting for certainty means waiting forever. What you actually need is just enough courage to take one step. Then another. Then another.
The path reveals itself as you walk it. Not before.
What January Gives Us
January doesn’t ask for answers.
It just offers a pause. A chance to check in. To notice what matters before the year fills itself up again.
These are the thoughts we’re carrying forward as the season shifts. Not grand conclusions or neat resolutions. Just reminders we’ll probably need again in a few months when things get busy and we forget to look up.
For couples planning weddings: you don’t need to have it all figured out before you start. You just need to know what feels true, then build from there.
For creatives building businesses: you don’t need to feel ready before you begin. You just need to take the next step, even when you can’t see the whole staircase.
For all of us: maybe that’s what these early weeks are for. Not to fix everything or figure it all out. Just to remember what actually matters. To recalibrate. To breathe before the momentum builds again.
And then to get back to work – a little clearer, a little steadier, carrying these small truths with us into whatever comes next.
Whether that’s planning a wedding in Japan, building a creative career, or simply choosing presence over performance in the everyday moments that make up a life.
The path is walked one step at a time. We’re all just figuring it out as we go.
📋 Planning & Film: www.destinationweddingjapan.com
📸 Photography: www.37framesphotography.com
