A small talk about why.

Finding Purpose Through the Lens.

My Journey towards Documentary Photography

A while back, I had the privilege of being invited to the Sustainable Photography podcast by Ingvild Kolnes, to talk about something that has completely shaped who I am,  both as a photographer and as a person: documentary photography.
It was a beautiful opportunity to reflect on my journey, the “why” behind my work, and what it truly means to capture life as it happens. Unposed, imperfect, and deeply human.

The Beauty of Real Life

Documentary photography isn’t about control or perfection. It’s about trust. It’s about noticing the quiet magic that unfolds when no one is performing for the camera, the small gestures, the laughter in between, the soft chaos of everyday life.
For me, this approach is a way of seeing. It’s a way of saying: this matters too. The crumbs on the table, the muddy shoes by the door, the way your child looks at you when they think no one’s watching , these are the details that tell your story.

Unlike traditional portraiture, documentary photography doesn’t ask people to pose or smile on command. It invites them to simply be. It celebrates life in all its beautiful contradictions , the tenderness and the tension, the stillness and the storm. Because that’s what real love looks like.

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A Journey to Purpose

My own path as a photographer has been far from straightforward. I began as a portrait photographer in Norway, carefully arranging light and poses, doing what I thought photography was supposed to look like.
But something in me resisted. The staged moments felt too quiet, too polished, too far away from the real stories I wanted to tell.

Life took me on a winding path  across countries, from Norway to the UK and back again and with each step, I learned to see differently. Slowly, I began to understand that the photos that moved me most weren’t the “perfect” ones. They were the honest ones.
The ones that felt alive.

That realisation led me to documentary photography, and to a kind of peace I hadn’t known before. It felt like coming home.

The Moment That Changed Everything

The loss of my father became a turning point in my story.
After he passed, I realized how few photos I had of him, real, living photos. Not the posed ones, but the moments that showed who he truly was: the way he smiled, how he moved, how he existed in our lives. That absence cut deep.
It made me understand, in the most personal way possible, why photographs matter. They are not just for us, but for those who come after us. They are a way to hold on to love, long after time has moved on.

From that moment, documentary photography became something more than an artistic choice. It became a mission: to preserve the truth of human connection, the beauty of ordinary days, and the relationships that make life meaningful.

Building Trust and Connection

Documentary work depends on trust  between photographer and client, between observer and subject.
Families invite me into their homes and lives, allowing me to see the beautiful chaos as it really is. And I honor that trust by being fully present, quiet, and patient, watching, feeling, waiting.

It’s not about fixing the scene. It’s about feeling it.
When families later look at their images and say, “This is so us,” I know I’ve done my job.

The Heart of My Business

Running a photography business today means much more than taking good pictures. It’s about aligning what you do with what you believe. For me, that means attracting families and couples who value authenticity, who want photos that feel like memories, not performances.

My albums, wall art, and prints are not products; they’re heirlooms. They are stories you can hold in your hands. Because years from now, when faces change and laughter sounds different, those tangible pieces will carry your history, and that is priceless.

Lessons Along the Way

Being a creative also means living with doubt. I’ve wrestled with imposter syndrome, just like so many others. But I’ve learned that the best antidote to fear is honesty. Showing my own life, the messy kitchen, my teenagers, the moments that aren’t “perfect”, has helped me connect with others in a way I never expected.

It’s a reminder that we don’t have to be flawless to be worthy of being remembered. We just have to be real.

Advice for Fellow Photographers

If you’re drawn to documentary photography, my best advice is to slow down. Spend time with people. Let them show you their world before you start capturing it. Learn the technical side, yes! but never let it drown out your instincts.
Your curiosity and empathy are your greatest tools.

Seek mentorship, take courses, ask questions, but most of all, stay connected to your why. That will guide you more than any manual ever could.

Staying True to Yourself

The biggest lesson I’ve learned, and the one I shared in the podcast, is that authenticity isn’t just a creative choice; it’s a way of living.
When you stay true to yourself, you attract the kind of people and stories that resonate with your heart.Documentary photography, for me, isn’t about perfection. It’s about truth.
It’s about honoring the life in front of me, exactly as it is; messy, fleeting, breathtakingly real.