Fort Worth Senior Photographer | Photographing My Own Senior

As a professional photographer, I’ve created countless portraits over the years—but I’ve never done anything quite like this. Photographing my own son’s senior session was emotional in a way I wasn’t entirely prepared for, even though I knew from the start I’d be the one behind the camera.

This wasn’t just another shoot. This was my son. My baby. My high school senior.

There was never a question in my mind that I’d take these photos myself. Not because I don’t value what other photographers do (I deeply do), but because this moment felt too close to home—too personal to hand over. I wanted to be there, present in every way, behind the lens but also behind the emotion of it all.

He Picked the Spot—and the Car Came With It

When we started talking about where to shoot, he didn’t pick a location with nostalgic ties or golden hour fields. He picked the old train station in Grapevine, Texas.

Why? Because he wanted his car in the photos.

That car means something to him. He saved up for it. It’s his freedom, his independence, and a little badge of pride. And once we got there, I could see why the location spoke to him, too. The station is full of history and grit—rusted railcars, worn paint, old corrugated buildings that have seen decades of stories pass by. It had just the right balance of character and quietness.

It was perfect.

We moved slowly through the session, letting the place guide us. He leaned against weathered red railcars with that calm confidence that always sneaks up on me. I watched him settle naturally into the space—arms crossed, eyes thoughtful, posture relaxed but sure. No fake smiles. No forced poses. Just him.

One of my favorite images is of him perched casually on the back of an old freight car, train cars stretching behind him into the evening light. Another shows him standing beside his car in front of a rusty metal building—solid, grounded, entirely himself. These photos aren’t about capturing a styled version of my son. They’re about documenting who he is right now.

Wearing Two Hats: Photographer and Mom

Wearing both hats—photographer and mom—was harder than I thought it would be. My professional instinct kicked in quickly: watching for light, composing the shot, adjusting for angles. But the mom in me kept catching her breath.

I’d look up from the camera and see a man where a boy used to be.

There were little moments that hit me unexpectedly—his side profile silhouetted against the railcar, the familiar way he shifts his weight onto one leg, the half-smile he gives when he thinks I’m being a little too sentimental. Every click of the shutter felt like a goodbye to a version of him that’s slowly, steadily slipping into the past.

And yet… every image is also a celebration of who he’s becoming.

Editing With Full Heart

Later, when I sat down to edit the images, it hit me all over again. I’ve never cried during post-processing before. But I did this time.

I noticed the way his jawline has changed. The way he carries himself with quiet certainty. I zoomed in on the rust and texture in the background and thought, this is the kind of setting I would have chosen for a senior guy client—except this time, the guy is mine.

Every image felt like a page from a story I’ve watched unfold for 18 years.

A Session I’ll Never Forget

This session wasn’t polished. It wasn’t posed within an inch of perfection. It was real. And that’s what makes it so special to me.

I’m not a senior portrait photographer by specialty, but this? This was the most meaningful senior session I’ll ever shoot. Not because of technical perfection, but because of the heart behind it. Because I got to give my son this gift—images that tell the story of where he is now, just before everything changes.

And I got to keep a piece of that moment for myself, too.

To every parent watching their child step into their senior year: I see you. It’s beautiful and heartbreaking and everything in between. If you happen to be a photographer, I hope you take the camera into your own hands—even just for a moment—and capture your view.

You’ll never regret it.