Here’s the problem: When I look at a picture of you, I see your beauty. I don’t see that your hair is not as you like it or your posture is not as your mother likes it or your earring is hanging wrong or your shirt is rumpled funny.
Instead, I see your sly sense of humor and your quiet intelligence and your charmingly nervous smile and your passionate curiosity. I see the interesting planes of your face and the sensuous curves of your lips. I see how much I like you and how much I enjoy the feeling of being near you.
So I often post photos of beautiful people, and those people get mildly irked or extremely angry with me because they don’t like the way they look in these photos.
I’m a reasonable man, so if you tell me that you don’t like the way you look in a photo, I’ll accept your feeling as a fact. But if you tell me you are not beautiful, I will have to quote The Dude: “That’s just, um, like, your opinion, man.”
I understand that this trait is not helpful to a professional photographer, who must ensure that clients are thrilled with every image. But I think I’d rather remain an amateur than give up my joyous admiration of your beauty, whether you can see it or not.
So there it is.