Photophobia: When Being in Front of the Camera Feels Like a Phobia

I was sitting in the barber chair when it hit me.

For years I had been trying to convince my barber to let me photograph him, and for years he brushed it off. That morning we got into a deeper conversation, and I realized it wasn’t about time or vanity. It was about fear. Not just camera shyness, but something that felt deeper, almost like a phobia.

As he explained why he didn’t like the idea of being in front of the lens, I noticed everything shift. His tone, cadence, even the way he carried himself. It reminded me of those body language experts you see on TV who can instantly tell when someone is uncomfortable. His whole presence said, “this makes me anxious.”

Discovering “Photophobia”

That is when I coined my own word for it: photophobia. I know the medical term refers to sensitivity to light, but in this context I use it to describe something different. This is not just insecurity or disliking how a photo turns out. It is the visceral, unexplainable discomfort of being in front of a camera.

It works like other phobias. Think of the fear of heights, the fear of spiders, or even more unusual ones like the fear of clusters of small holes. You cannot always rationalize it. You just feel it.

How Common Is It?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I have seen this before. Over the years, I have photographed thousands of people. Some joke their way through it, some stiffen up, some flat out tell me they hate photos of themselves but cannot explain why.

What if, for a percentage of them, it is not about being “unphotogenic”? What if it is a true fear of the process itself?

Why It Matters for Photographers

This is where the role of a photographer becomes more than technical. When a company sends an employee to me for a required headshot, that person often walks in with resistance. Sometimes even fear.

If I simply put them in front of a camera and fire away, they leave with an image they dislike and an experience that feels like punishment. Nobody benefits from that.

That is why photographers must step into a role that borders on being therapeutic. We are not just adjusting lights and lenses. We are easing nerves, breaking tension, and guiding people through something that feels uncomfortable for them.

Creating a Comfortable Space

It is not about tricking someone into smiling. It is about acknowledging their discomfort and helping them through it. Sometimes that means slowing down. Sometimes it means talking through the process. Sometimes it means simply respecting the fact that they are nervous.

Because in the end, a photo is not just a picture. It is also the memory of how someone felt while being photographed. And if we as photographers can make that experience less painful, maybe even enjoyable, we have done more than take a photo. We have helped someone take a step toward overcoming their own version of photophobia.