This is the important part: you have to care about the things that matter to you. No one else. Not an establishment or group. Not a brand or company. Just you, and only you.

I see far too many people these days chasing brand deals or hyper-fixating on getting their work shared by a popular Instagram page. And that’s okay, some people genuinely get a kick out of those things. But I think it’s a long, slippery road to dissatisfaction, maybe even failure.

It’s become the new standard of “success.” Thanks to social media, many photographers now feel they need to collaborate with or be sponsored by a brand to have any real status or value in photography. Sure, some amazing photographers are sponsored and work with brands, and those people deserve the recognition and support they receive.

But equally, I see so many others getting featured for simply copying what’s already popular. It gets likes, sure. Brands share it because it generates engagement. But let’s be honest, it’s rarely a true representation of the art or depth of photography. It’s marketing, plain and simple.

Because I was that person for a while. I wanted sponsorships. I wanted to be featured. And I was! My work was shared by Nikon Asia and Fujifilm. Did it light a fire in me? Did it give me the buzz I was hoping for?

Absolutely not.

In fact, it left me feeling even more disappointed and disconnected. I was making images for other people, for these brand pages and audiences, not for myself or my own interests. Sure, those pages gained traction from my work, but I got nothing meaningful from it.

Now, I no longer care about brand deals or social media recognition. I can genuinely say that my only concern is my own enjoyment and fulfillment in the work I create. Anything beyond that is a bonus.

My passion lies in genres where the standard is incredibly high, and I may never reach the level of photographers I admire, and that’s okay. I’ve accepted that. But for a while, I didn’t. I tried to chase other genres that I thought might help me gain traction more easily.

I’d much rather get zero likes, follows, or comments on work I’m truly passionate about than get tons of engagement on work I don’t care about. There’s a deep emptiness that comes from not being emotionally connected to your own art.

My Passions and the Freedom I Now Have

As I mentioned earlier, my passions lie in these genres:

-Wildlife

-Documentary/Reportage

-Landscapes

Breaking into these fields, especially with limited time and money, feels almost impossible, not to mention the sheer skill and talent required. I used to tell myself things like, “It’s impossible to become known for wildlife photography, so why bother?” or “How can I ever make money with landscapes?”

That kind of thinking is a trap. And I fell right into it.

Now, after a lot of mental healing, I’ve let go of the chase. Likes, sponsorships, money, fame—I’ve stopped caring about them. And it wasn’t easy. But getting to this point has given me the freedom to pursue the photography that genuinely excites me.

My current project, Chao Rim Khlong: Life at the Edge of Water, is a documentary/reportage piece about people who live on or near the water in Bangkok. For a long time, I found excuses not to work on it. I told myself the images wouldn’t perform well on social media, that brands wouldn’t share them.

So, I wasted time not pursuing a project that truly meant something to me, because I was trapped by the lure of social media recognition. Trapped—remember that word.

Wildlife photography is another key example. Back when I lived in the UK, I spent a good amount of money on a Nikon 200–500mm lens and went out often to shoot wildlife. I got a few decent shots, but nothing close to the photographers I looked up to. Eventually, I gave up and sold the lens.

What I failed to recognize at the time was how much I loved being out in nature. Seeing animals up close, experiencing their world, that’s worth more than any photo that might go viral. The joy wasn’t just in the images; it was in the process.

These examples show how the wrong mindset, caring too much about external validation, can drain your enjoyment and even harm your creativity. I’d argue that if you follow your passions and trust the process, your work will naturally evolve and eventually surpass what you create when chasing fame.

Now, I can fully focus on the projects that light me up. I photograph wildlife and enjoy the nature around me. I document the lives of people along Bangkok’s khlongs. I capture breathtaking landscapes when I travel with my wife and daughter. These things bring me joy, and that’s why I picked up a camera in the first place.

Will Nikon come knocking? Probably not. Will Nat Geo call? Highly unlikely. But honestly, who cares?

Here’s my advice: stop caring about the things that don’t matter, and watch your freedom grow. Create and photograph what makes you happy. Follow your passions. Shoot what makes you smile. Even if it seems small or meaningless to others, do it for yourself.

Thanks for reading,

Arran