37 FramesThey say no one reads blogs anymore.
The experts. The algorithms. The endless carousel of thought leaders who’ve moved on to vlogging, TikToks, and “digestible content.” If it’s not a reel with trending audio and a hook in the first three seconds, what’s even the point?
And yet… here we are.
Still blogging. Still writing. Still putting words in rows and shaping our thoughts into something that lingers. Not because we’re chasing reach or traffic (although a nice bump on Google is always welcome), but because there’s something quietly powerful about creating in a medium that feels just a little bit out of step with the noise.
A blog, in 2025, feels like a love letter.
Not just to the readers, but to ourselves.
Always On. Always Seen.
Our lives… especially in this line of work… are built around not being seen. We show up fully… but behind the scenes. With emotion. With presence. With energy that often comes from the bottom of the tank. We plan, we create, we shoot, we story-tell. We host timelines and toast moments. We hold space for others’ joy while quietly carrying our own humanness in our back pockets.
And so, when we do blog… when we sit still long enough to gather what we’ve experienced… it feels like an exhale. A conversation with the quieter parts of ourselves. One that doesn’t require good lighting or a hook or anything remotely viral.
We write because writing lets us find meaning in the madness. It lets us track our journey and gather the breadcrumbs. It helps us pause in a life that doesn’t always allow for it.
Is Anyone Out There?
It’s a fair question.
We know full well that most people will scroll by this post. Many will never see it. Some might skim the first paragraph and leave. (If you’re still reading now… hi. We love you. You’re our people.)
But that’s the thing: blogging isn’t about the masses.
It’s about the moments.
The ones we don’t always capture on film. The truths that don’t fit into a caption. The philosophies and insights that can’t be distilled into a six-second hook and a call to action. Sometimes, we write to make sense of our own hearts. Sometimes, we write to remind ourselves we’re still here, still growing, still figuring things out.
Sometimes, we write because there’s no better way to say what we need to say.
And sure, it might be a vintage medium. But vintage is often where the good stuff lives.
The Slowness of Storytelling
Blogging asks something rare in this age: your attention.
Not a swipe. Not a double-tap. But a few minutes to sit with words, to enter a world, to slow down and feel.
That’s not nothing.
In fact, that slowness is revolutionary.
And while it may not “convert” as quickly as a flashy video or trend, it creates a different kind of connection. A deeper one. The kind where someone reaches out and says, “I read that post you wrote three years ago, and it stayed with me.” The kind that feels like real conversation, not just content.
Who Are We When No One’s Watching?
We often tell our clients: Your day isn’t just about the photos. It’s about how you felt.
Blogging is the same.
It’s not just about showcasing our work or announcing something new. It’s a record of what mattered. Of what we were thinking and feeling in between the big moments. It’s where we show up a little messier. A little more human. A little less curated.
And that vulnerability? That’s where the magic happens.
We’ve written posts we thought no one would read, and then months later, a couple tells us that exact story was why they reached out. We’ve poured our hearts into reflections that felt too personal to share… only to find they landed with people who needed those words in that exact moment.
So… we keep going.
Not Everything Has to Be Strategic
It’s easy to get caught in the mindset that everything we do online has to serve a purpose. Grow the brand. Attract leads. Drive engagement.
And while all of those things have their place, there’s also a kind of quiet defiance in creating something simply because it feels true.
These blogs? They’re not a sales funnel.
They’re a home.
A digital campfire we gather around. A place where we can put down the cameras and the timelines and just speak. About the work. About the world. About what it means to do something you love so much it sometimes breaks you open.
And we believe… deeply… that kind of honesty builds connection. The kind you can’t fast-track or automate.
What We Leave Behind
In the end, we blog because we’re storytellers.
And one day, when the algorithms have moved on and the reels have stopped rolling, these stories will still be here. Quietly sitting in the archives. A breadcrumb trail of a life lived with intention.
That’s not nothing.
So no, maybe blogs aren’t “in” anymore. But neither is pausing. Or being present. Or writing things that take longer than a scroll.
And maybe that’s exactly why we need to keep doing it. Not to be seen. But to see ourselves more clearly.
With gratitude for anyone still reading, Tracey & Dee
Still blogging in the age of reels.
37 Frames
