"Um, do you maybe want to do something other than smile?"

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Reader, I sure as hell did.

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I had done a ton of research and — and even built a cute little pinterest board — for the solo shots I wanted to take for my website.

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We were taking family pictures two weekends ago, and my can-occasionally-be-thrifty ass saw an opportunity to get some *free* professional headshots.

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Though you definitely wouldn’t know had you happened to be off in the distance that day watching my stiff, awkward self do absolutely nothing in front of the camera, I really HAD been excited about it beforehand.

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I had a list of shots prepared:

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• Sitting on the ground, laptop opened, blue light glasses on as I lower them to my nose and look sternly at the camera

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• Sitting backwards in a chair, holding a laptop and three bottles of wine, looking *chic-bored

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• Standing with a wine glass as wine pours into it from just outside the frame (note to self: don’t wear white)

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I’d be chic, a little moody, a touch of grown-up, a little quirky. The exact type of professional you’d want to write your website.

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I just really wanted these photos to be different from the standard smile-into-the-distance headshots.

(Spoiler: I totally took one of those.)

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But on the day of our photos, I was late to shower.

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Thus, late to do my hair.

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Thus, late to put on my press-on nails.

(It was my first ever time to use press-on nails and I allotted exactly three minutes for their application.)

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By the time I was “ready,” I was already sweating, and had a pinky press-on stuck in my flat hair.

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Given my self-imposed rush, I lost a lot of my "it’s branding shoot day!" steam.

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I didn't bring a single prop — not even a wine bottle. I had dropped the ball on the preparedness and lost the pizazz I had when I was researching.

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But Shayla, our wonderful photographer — damn her — did not forget that I had mentioned this earlier.

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“Ready to take some solo shots, Kelsey?”

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Fuck.

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She and I left the family and walked down the park path a little ways.

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I entered MAJOR imposter syndrome mode.

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• I’m sweaty.
• I don’t feel cute.
• Every single nail is glued at angles that would only be possible if I slammed each and every one into a car door.

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Shayla tossed out some easy small talk, asked me to stand “right there,” and held up her camera.

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I … froze.

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Actually, I froze-smiled. Like third-grade school photo day auto-pilot. (When you know what you have to do, but you also really just want to go to lunch.)

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Sweet, sweet Shayla activated pageant-mom mode.

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“You look so good! Now, put your hand on your hip like this …” [she demonstrates and I follow] … “Perfect! This is just an easy pose that helps give some dimension to a simple headshot. Now, smiiiiile.”

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Bless you, Shayla.

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I finally felt like I *wasn’t* a freshly-caught tuna, flopping around with no aim. Because I finally had the direction I needed:

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HAND ON HIP

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We took a dozen photos. My left hand did not move. Shayla knew she had to shake it up and took me to a different spot.

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“Go ahead and sit there. Pretend we’re just having a few cocktails out here together …” [how does she KNOW me?] “... how would you sit?”

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I leaned back on one hand and Shayla captured a cutey little photo of my hair lightly swinging back and a sincere smile on my face.

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“So cute! Now, lean forward with your chin on your hands and look at me.”

[I was skeptical of this one. It felt 1997 Glamour Shot-y, but Shayla hadn’t led me astray yet.]

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I leaned forward with my chin on my hands and, after a few clicks, I — with the actual confidence of Gisele Bündchen — looked off into the distance.

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She snapped a few more before I called it. And I’ll tell you what, Reader. — Shayla made me look gooooood.

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The photos came in a few days later and what I thought were going to be floppy tuna photos of me with too much forehead sheen from all of my sweat were actually … pretty fucking perfect!

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I’ve plopped a few on my website (peep my favorite photos on my homepage). Thank you, Shayla!!!

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The Segue

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When it comes to writing your website, you are me and I am Shayla.

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You have an *idea* of what you want your website to become.

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• You might have a list of websites that you like.
• You sort of know the vibe you’re going for.
• You dream of it coming together into something you’re proud to share.

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And then you sit down to write it. (I.e. show up late and sweaty with bad press-on nails.)

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And you become a floppy, weird, scared little tuna.

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But, Tuna, I see you. And I know that you just need a Shayla — someone to say, “hey, you really do have what it takes, let me help.”

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Let me be your Shayla.

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If you’ve been side-eying your website (or a sales page, or email sequence) for a bit too long … agonizing over how to make it better …

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​Hire me to audit it.​

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I’ll tell you everything that’s good and everything you need to fix to get it to a place you love and to get it converting. I’ll give you what you need:

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THE MAGIC HAND ON YOUR HIP

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​Book your audit here — ooo, I should really update those photos — and nab one of the three spots I have left for March.

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If you have aaaaaany questions, hit reply and tell me! I want to hear from you.

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Much love ✌️Kelsey

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PS If you’re in Texas and want some light, bright, and airy photos of you, your family, or your chickens (yes, she encourages you to bring your animals along), give Shayla a call.​

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PPS Feel free to mention me, but don’t be surprised when she’s like “who?” Something tells me she's a bigger deal in MY life than I am in hers.