My personal trainer has an eye for photos. Every time we finish a session, he offers to snap a quick picture of me to track my progress. But these aren’t just ordinary gym selfies—they’re stunning. He knows how to find the perfect angle, the best lighting, the exact moment where I look strong yet elegant. It’s as if he sees me differently, capturing not just my body but something deeper—my confidence, my determination, even my beauty.

I’ll admit, I look forward to those photos. They make me feel good about myself in ways I hadn’t felt in years. They remind me of the person I want to be—not just a wife or someone’s partner, but a woman who owns her strength and presence.

The funny thing is, my husband doesn’t know how to take pictures like that. Whenever I ask him to take a photo, it’s rushed or poorly framed, and the results always leave me frustrated. “I’m just not good at this,” he says with a shrug, handing the phone back. I don’t blame him—he’s good at so many other things, but photography just isn’t one of them.

Still, I can’t help but notice the difference. With my trainer, there’s a level of care, a subtle attention to detail that makes me feel seen, truly seen. It’s not just about the pictures; it’s about the way someone takes the time to make me feel special, even if it’s just through the lens of a camera.