I’m at my desk reviewing images a photographer has pitched to Them Frames. They’re exceptional. Within the first few frames, I already know I’m going to feature them. Then a feeling I know well starts to creep in. Envy. And right on cue, the thought follows. I wish these photos were mine.
Comparing to Others
For over a decade, I’ve had the privilege of interviewing countless photographers. Idols like Steve McCurry, Bruce Gilden, and Ami Vitale are among those I’ve spoken with. There are also current favorites like Bryan Minear, Iness Rychlik, and Twins Wild Lens who have graciously shared their images with me.
It’s become almost impossible not to look at the work of other photographers and measure it against my own. I know I’m not alone in this. Comparing ourselves to others is part of being human, especially in the digital age, where we have constant access to what others are creating.
The consequences of this very human habit can be damaging if left unchecked. It can weaken our connection to the photographs we’ve already made. At worst, it can stop us from creating altogether, as self-doubt quietly turns into a loathing of our own abilities.
There’s a line from a paper on envy published by the National Institute of Medicine that’s stayed with me: “…what you really value in life is more often revealed by asking yourself who you are jealous of rather than asking yourself directly what you value.”
When I sit with that idea, the envy starts to make more sense. It isn’t just insecurity or self-doubt, it’s a signal. An uncomfortable clue pointing toward the kind of work I care about deeply, even if I haven’t yet taken steps to make it myself.
That feeling of wishing another photographer’s work was yours is a cue to go deeper. Not necessarily to chase a better end result, but to pay attention to the work happening behind the scenes. The choices, the effort, the intent that shape the outcome.
Use it to Your Advantage
There’s even an argument for welcoming envy as it opens the door to reflection. It can be the push needed to start the project that’s been sitting quietly in the back of your mind for months, maybe years. It’s an invitation to lean into the photographer you want to become.
It can also lead to appreciation. Sitting with your current body of work and asking yourself why you make photos the way you do. Often, at least in my experience, this reflection brings a renewed respect for the images you’ve already created. A moment where you can say to yourself, “my photos matter to me. I value them”.
And it’s worth remembering that even the most accomplished photographers wrestle with the same feelings. I’ve spoken to many photographers off the record, people most of us would dream of becoming, who struggle just as much to appreciate their own work.
So envy, comparison, and self-doubt aren’t things we overcome once and for all. They’re things we learn to live with. If we’re willing, they can become less of a weight and more of a compass, quietly pointing us back toward the work we’re meant to do.
More reading: Why Take a Photo Everyone Else Has Already Taken?
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