My cousin Brandon felt he was getting a deal when he hired me to photograph his wedding for cheap. I smiled and consented, knowing he was taking advantage. By night’s end, I provided him and his wife an unforgettable memory. Trust me—it wasn’t wall-mounted.
I never imagined my passion for pets would cause my worst family conflict. Somehow, it did.
I’m Rachel, a full-time dog groomer for five years.
It’s more than washing and brushing for me. It’s wonderful to turn a scruffy, anxious dog into a confident, shining fluffball. The before-and-after moments always touch me, and my passion for photography started there.
My dog customers are photographed after every grooming. We utilize a professional camera, lighting, and props, not just a phone. My ability to capture their young faces’ excitement and charm has improved. My Instagram account grew steadily as I posted my finest photos. Dog lovers liked watching their pets become stars, and I adored the creative outlet.
Naturally, posting good images earns you the title of “photographer.” The problem started there.
My family was always hyping me up. “Rachel, your photos look like magazine covers!” my Aunt Denise would comment whenever she saw me. I always smiled and thanked her. Though flattering, I never claimed to be anything other than a dog groomer with a side passion.
Once, my cousin Trevor contacted me in the afternoon.
Aunt Denise’s son Trevor. Not close. He’s always been charming and ambitious but lacking in action. We see each other around Christmas and maybe birthdays. That concludes.
He and Lily got engaged, and I didn’t expect to hear from them. But I did.
“Rachel! We adore your pictures,” Lily said on the phone. “Your talent is impressive, but our wedding budget is limited. We wanted you to photograph our wedding.
“Uh,” I paused. “That’s not my job.”
“Come on,” Trevor said. “You always take pictures! Just a few hours. You’ll get paid fully! Like… $250?”
I had to hold back laughter. An full wedding for $250?
“Guys,” I remarked softly, “I appreciate your consideration, but I don’t do weddings. Dog photographer. I don’t have the appropriate gear for that event.”
Lily’s tone changed. Sharper she became. “You have a camera? Not much changed. You’d aid family. We cannot afford a professional photographer.”
I said I’d think about it, and later that night, my dad and I ate leftover Chinese at the kitchen table.
He has been my support since Mom died when I was 22. We discuss everything.
“They want me to shoot the whole wedding for $250,” I informed him, half-surprised.
Raised eyebrow. It’s shamefully low. However, they are family. If you can assist, I understand. No one should shame you into doing anything uncomfortable.”
I adore my dad because he never pushes. Just gives me the information and lets me decide.
Next morning, I caved.
I texted Trevor and Lily, “I’ll do it. Please note that I do not shoot weddings. I’ll try, but no guarantees.”
In seconds, Lily answered. “OMG thanks!” Your awesome! This will be perfect!”
Perfect. Sure.
I worked hard to prepare in the weeks before the wedding. A backup battery, better lens, and flash were purchased with my own money after watching wedding photography videos and practicing lighting approaches. Even for humiliating compensation, I gave my all.
The big day arrived.
The old veterans’ hall with arched ceilings, chandeliers, and polished wood flooring was stunning. I entered to the aroma of fresh flowers. Dozens of white and pink flowers adorned hallways and tables.
“Wow,” I told Lily’s bridesmaid. “These flowers are amazing.”
“Oh yeah,” she laughed. Lily spent nearly $3000 on flowers! Additionally, she engaged a bartender for specialty drinks.
Three thousand flowers. They “couldn’t afford” a photographer.
Lily barked demands from 11 a.m., so I ran from room to room.
“Photograph my shoes from above, not straight on! It doesn’t gleam otherwise!”
Photograph the back of my dress! Focus on the lace!”
Eliminate my mother. She wore inappropriate color.”
No thanks. Not kind. Just orders.
I was dehydrated, hot, and exhausted by 4 p.m. The hall felt like a sauna with over 100 attendees and no air conditioning. I wasn’t provided a drink, food, or chair.
At cocktail hour, I hid behind a shrub to take “candid” visitor photos. The buffet smelled like barbecue and fresh bread, and my hunger grumbled.
I gently told Trevor, “Hey, I just need 20 minutes to grab a plate and some water. I haven’t eaten today.”
His expression was irritated. “You work. Wedding photographers don’t eat. If you eat, you’re done for the day.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
Right then, Lily stepped up. “If this is too hard, maybe you should stick to dog pictures.”
Then something snapped.
Hunger and desperation made me glance at them with perspiration on my back and quivering palms.
So, just to be clear, “you don’t want me to sit, eat, or drink — but you expect me to keep going for the rest of the night?”
Lily huffed, “You’re being dramatic. “$250 is generous for a crap photographer.”
I took my camera.
I deleted every picture from the day without saying a word.
Trevor became wide-eyed. What are you doing, Rachel?
I answered quietly, “Exactly what you asked me to.” “Leaving.”
“You’re ruining our wedding!” Lily screamed.
Guests noticed. Music stopped. All eyes were on us.
You psychopathic! You owe!” Lily yelled.
I grinned as I gave Trevor the memory card.
“You paid me to work like a dog without food, breaks, or respect. Congratulations—I’m done.”
I stormed out of that hall.
Silence behind me was louder than Lily’s cry.
My phone exploded before I reached my vehicle.
Dozens of visitors messaged:
“Good for you. No one deserves that.”
We saw her words—you didn’t deserve that.”
It takes guts. Wish I had left with you.”
They say Lily sobbed so much she damaged her artificial lashes and spent the reception in the toilet.
A few days later, Trevor demanded I pay for a new photographer. A chuckle.
“Maybe you should’ve spent that flower money on a real photographer from the start,” I remarked before hanging up.
My dad?
He held me tightly as I told him what occurred.
Sometimes family isn’t your birth parents. He or she treats you with respect. They showed you none.”
He was correct.
Not embarrassed of my actions. I’m happy I defended myself.
Never again will I sell my camera or self-respect.
