“I am woman, hear me roar.”

Except lately, we are whispering instead—
“Can you make me look more like… her?”

And by her, we do not always mean another woman.

Sometimes we mean the AI version of ourselves.

Women, we are falling for AI versions of ourselves like a first crush!

And honestly, I get it.

As a photographer, I see this firsthand. Heck, I’ve done it myself.

A little smoothing here.

A thinner waistline there.

More defined arms.

Wrinkles softened.

Skin brightened.

The ever-familiar request: “Can you just fix this one thing?”

And I understand where it comes from.

Most women are not asking to look like someone else.

Not really.

They are often asking to look like the version of themselves they feel safest being seen as.

The version who looks rested.

The version who looks confident.

The version who looks a little more like the woman she still feels like inside.

That desire is deeply human.

But now AI has taken that little whisper of insecurity and turned it into a full-blown alternate woman.

SHE is easy to fall in love with!

She has perfect skin. Perfect hair. A sculpted jawline. Bright eyes. No texture. No tiredness. No puffiness. No grief.

No evidence that life has ever touched her.

At first, it feels harmless.

Let’s see what this app does.

Just for fun.

And—it IS fun.

There is nothing wrong with creativity and imagination. There is nothing wrong with playing with technology, making art, or seeing ourselves in a new way.

But somewhere along the way, something can shift.

Women are not just admiring the AI version of themselves.

They are grieving that they do not look like her.

And that is where it gets dangerous.

Because once the artificial version becomes the standard, the REAL reflection begins to feel like the disappointment.

The mirror feels harsh.

The candid photo feels cruel.

The unedited face feels unfinished.

The natural body feels like something that needs to be auto-corrected.

And suddenly, we are competing with a version of ourselves that has never lived a single day.

The AI version has no bad lighting.

No hormone shifts.

No sleepless nights.

No laugh lines from a life fully lived.

No soft belly from babies, stress, aging, or simply being human.

She has never grieved.

She is a fantasy built from our insecurities and polished until we forget the woman underneath was already worthy.

That is the part that unsettles me most.

Because I know what happens when a woman steps in front of my camera. I know the nerves. I know the way she apologizes for her body before I have even taken the first frame. I know the way she points out the arms, the chin, the stomach, the wrinkles, the things she hopes I will somehow make disappear.

And I also know what I see.

I see the woman who showed up.

I see the tenderness in her face.

I see the strength in her posture, even when she feels unsure.

I see the story in her eyes.

I see the beauty she has been trained to critique before she allows herself to receive it.

That is why THIS CONVERSATION MATTERS.

Because the goal of photography should never be to erase a woman until she becomes acceptable.

The goal should be to help her see herself with more compassion.

Yes, editing has a place. 

Good lighting has a place. Professional posing has a place. A little polish has a place.

But there is a difference between enhancing an image and erasing a person.

There is a difference between softening a shadow and removing every sign that a woman has lived.

There is a difference between art and abandonment.

I am not against editing.

I am not against creativity.

I am not even against having a little fun with AI.

But I am against anything that teaches a woman to abandon herself.

Because you were never meant to compete with a version of yourself that has never aged, grieved, birthed, survived, or stood back up again.

Your face tells YOUR truth.

Your body has brought you through every season you swore you would not survive.

Your organic reflection is NOT the enemy.

Maybe the better question is not, “Can this make me look better?”

Maybe the better question is, “Can I still recognize the girl when it’s done?”

Because the real woman matters.

The real woman is the story.

The woman with texture.

The woman with history.

The woman with softness.

She deserves to be photographed.

She deserves to be seen.

And most of all, she deserves not to be abandoned for an illusion.

You are worth it. 

BBJAX xo