Can you be a photographer without posting online?
A meditation on visibility, validation, and the quiet joy of creating for yourself.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to “be seen.”
Not just in the Instagram sense, not just likes or shares or algorithm boosts, but really seen. As an artist. As a human being. And whether that visibility is something I actually want… or something I’ve just been conditioned to chase.
I had a conversation with a close friend recently about what I consider the ultimate achievement in my life as a photographer. I told them: “I want to have a monograph. I want a solo exhibition.”
And they asked me something that stopped me in my tracks:
“Why is that so important to you?”
At first, I said what came naturally: “Because it will make me feel seen.”
But even as the words left my mouth, I felt emotional. Something about it felt off. Because I know, deep down, that feeling seen won’t make me happy. Or at least, not in the way I imagine it might. It won’t solve anything. It won’t fill any long-standing void.
I’ve been part of exhibitions. I’ve been featured in publications. And while these milestones felt meaningful in the moment, they didn’t bring the fulfillment I expected. I didn’t gain more clients, I didn’t increase my follower count. Instead, I felt a quiet emptiness, as if achieving those things was only the beginning of a much bigger question: Now what?
As photographers, as creators, we live in an era where the expectation to be constantly visible has reached an all-time high. We are encouraged, no, required, to share every moment, every thought, every photograph. It’s a feedback loop: we create, we share, we get validation, we create again. But the more I’ve engaged in this cycle, the more I’ve realised it often feels empty.
The pressure to post online is a real one, and it’s exhausting. There’s always the question of how much to share and when, what angle will get the most attention, which image fits the brand you’ve worked so hard to curate. It can feel less like creating art and more like creating content, sometimes for the sake of content itself.
But is that really the purpose of photography? To seek validation through likes, comments, and followers? Or should it be about creating something that feels true, something that resonates with you, not just with an audience?
I’ve been grappling with this question for a while now: when I post something online, am I doing it to share with others and connect? Or am I seeking validation from them? What would happen if I stopped posting altogether? Would my photography still hold meaning? Would I still be a photographer without the social media presence?
I realised that it’s the act of sharing, of opening up, to others that feels rewarding. Whether it's through a photo I post or a conversation I have with a fellow creative. Sharing for connection, not for praise. There’s something incredibly powerful about sharing art in a way that feels authentic, not driven by the need for approval, but simply to offer a glimpse into what you see and how you see the world.
But here’s the thing: sometimes, the quiet joy of creating just for myself is where the magic really happens. The photos I take that I never post, those are the ones I cherish most. No pressure, no expectations, no need for them to be perfect. Just me and my camera, capturing the world as I see it.
The act of creating without an audience watching, without wondering how many likes it will get, there’s a freedom in that. I get to explore my own vision, experiment with my craft, and not worry about anyone else's opinions.
There’s something so sacred about keeping work for yourself. It's a way of reconnecting with the purest form of creation: making because you love the process, not because you want to be seen doing it.
There’s this underlying belief in the creative industry that visibility equals success. We are taught that more followers, more likes, more publications, more exhibitions, that’s how you know you’ve made it. But I’m learning that success doesn’t always look like that.
Success in photography, and in life, really, isn’t just about visibility. It’s about finding peace in your work, finding joy in the process, and learning to appreciate the quiet moments of creation that no one else ever sees. And sometimes, you have to disconnect from the noise to hear that inner voice that tells you why you started in the first place.
Sometimes, it’s necessary to step away from the constant visibility in order to truly grow as an artist.
You don’t need the approval of strangers, and you don’t need to show the world everything you create. Photography, at its core, is about capturing a moment that speaks to you. It’s about telling stories that matter to you.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.
This was a great read, Giulia. Definitely resonates with me and how I was feeling when I left Instagram. I Love Substack, the connections here feel real , conversation feels genuine, but it can be easy to fall into the same mindset as well, I’ve noticed it creeping in and while I appreciate not having to post all the time here without losing traction, it can at times feel stressful in the same way that Instagram did.
Thanks for sharing, I really appreciated your perspective and the outcome you came to.
Cheers!