We recently had the chance to connect with Paloma Schell and have shared our conversation below.
Paloma, we’re thrilled to have you with us today. Before we jump into your intro and the heart of the interview, let’s start with a bit of an ice breaker: What do you think others are secretly struggling with—but never say?
I believe many people are quietly struggling with the need to appear successful, happy, and emotionally fulfilled at all times. There is constant pressure to maintain a narrative of perfection, whether in career, relationships, or personal life, especially on social media. Behind this carefully curated image, there are often frustrations, insecurities, fear of failure, loneliness, and a deep sense of inadequacy.
The paradox is that the more someone tries to prove they are doing well, the less space there is for vulnerability. And vulnerability is precisely what makes us human. We live in a culture that celebrates visible achievements but rarely validates internal processes, such as exhaustion, doubt, and silent reinvention. Many people suffer not only because of the challenges they face, but also because of the burden of having to hide them.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Paloma Schell. I am a maternity and newborn photographer, educator, and mentor with over fifteen years of continuous experience in the industry. My journey in photography is deeply connected to my personal life, motherhood, and family background. I come from a family of photographers, began working with image editing at a young age, and found in newborn photography not just a professional niche, but a true purpose.
My work is known for its minimalist, timeless aesthetic and an uncompromising commitment to newborn safety, emotional connection, and creating images that endure over time. Throughout my career, I have taught at more than thirty photography conferences across seventeen countries, authored technical books for photographers, and mentored professionals who are now leaders in their own markets.
Beyond the artistic side, I also work as a mentor, helping photographers build their businesses with clarity, ethics, and sustainability, without losing sensitivity or connection to their own stories. My brand was built at the intersection of technique, emotion, and responsibility, both toward the families I photograph and the professionals I teach.
Currently, I am focused on my authorial work in my studio, dedicating myself to offering a deeply personal and intentional experience for each family I photograph. I chose to step away from stages and large events in order to be fully present with my clients, while still offering selective one to one mentorships. This balance also allows me something essential at this stage of my life: meaningful time with my family, which remains the foundation and inspiration behind everything I do.
Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. Who saw you clearly before you could see yourself?
It was my husband. For a long time, I saw myself as psychologically fragile, vulnerable, and shaped by fears and traumas that seemed to define me. When we met, I was nineteen years old and had a very limited perception of who I was. He, however, saw me from a different place. Not through idealization or rescue, but through a quiet confidence that invited movement.
Over the years, he pushed me toward challenges I never believed I was capable of facing. He did not shield me from the world, nor did he expose me without support. He showed me, in practice, that strength is not the absence of fear, but the ability to move through it. Gradually, I came to know a version of myself I never believed could exist. A Paloma more whole, more grounded, and more capable than I had imagined.
We have been together for twenty four years, and I have spent more than half of my life by his side. What he offered me was not dependence or salvation, but an honest mirror. Someone who helped me understand who I was in the world, not by telling me who I should be, but by making space for me to become.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering taught me what success never could. It taught me humility. Not a performative humility, but the kind that emerges when all layers of external validation fall away and only what truly matters remains. In moments of pain, titles, recognition, applause, and visible achievements lose their meaning. What matters is who stays. Who can sit with silence. Who does not leave when there is nothing to offer except vulnerability.
Success often creates the illusion of fulfillment. The spotlight makes us seem bigger than we are and, at the same time, more alone than we realize. Suffering dismantles that illusion. It exposes how empty a life can be when it is built solely to be seen, consumed, or admired. It reveals that a superficial life, even when considered successful by the world, cannot sustain the soul.
Suffering taught me to distinguish presence from audience, connection from interest, love from convenience. It forced me to slow down, to listen, to reassess priorities, and to understand that value does not lie in how much one is recognized, but in how true one is. Success can inflate the ego. Suffering, when faced with awareness, expands our humanity.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. How do you differentiate between fads and real foundational shifts?
I differentiate trends from fundamental change by observing the depth at which they operate. Trends exist on the surface. They rely on urgency, visibility, and constant reinvention in order to remain relevant. I do not see fashion as something negative at all. Fashion plays an important historical role. It marks eras, creates rupture, shifts direction, and helps tell the story of a specific time. Often, its purpose is precisely to date a moment.
Timelessness, on the other hand, is connected to essence. What is essential does not depend on trends to exist and does not lose relevance over time. Fundamental changes do not require spectacle or immediate validation. They operate at deeper levels, quietly and consistently, because they are rooted in meaning rather than appearance.
In photography, this distinction has always guided my work. I chose timelessness as a principle because I believe in images that endure, images that do not reveal a specific era, but instead preserve emotions, connections, and identity. Fashion passes, and that is both natural and necessary for history to move forward. What remains is essence. And for me, that is what defines what is truly lasting.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. Are you tap dancing to work? Have you been that level of excited at any point in your career? If so, please tell us about those days.
There is a phrase that truly defines me: work with what you love, and you will never work a day in your life. For me, this is not tied to a single moment in my career, because that feeling is constant. Every time I photograph a newborn, I do not feel like I am working. I enter the studio with a smile, fully present, enjoying each expression, each detail, and every stage of the process.
That sense of fulfillment does not end with the session itself. It continues through editing, when I revisit the images with the same care and intention, and through client communication, which I consider an essential part of the experience. Receiving sincere, positive feedback from a family feels like a coronation to me, the most genuine form of recognition and the best recommendation one could receive.
I truly love what I do. So if I were to answer honestly, I would say that it is not on specific days that I go tap dancing to work. It is something that happens every single day.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.palomaschell.com
- Instagram: @palomaschell
- Facebook: Paloma Schell Portraits
- Yelp: Paloma Schell Portraits
- Other: Pinterest @palomaschell
Image Credits
Paloma Schell
