I photograph a lot of people. Almost everyone believes they are ugly. Your grandmother. Your child. Your best friend. Most models. Most actors. Maybe even you.

“Oh, don’t take my photo, I’ll break your camera!” laughs the 80-year-old grandfather. When he dies a few months later, his grandkids will treasure this reminder of his “ugly mug.”

“Please delete this,” says a dear old friend. She looks beautiful. She looks like herself. She’s been captured in a moment in which she is utterly comfortable in her skin. And she hates it.

“Oh God,” I said, because I had to get a professional headshot for work. “I have a face like a slapped ham,” I told the makeup artist I hired because I’m so hideous that I can’t bear to have photos of me around. The selfie I took of “the best it’s ever going to get” is my husband’s iPhone background.

You will never see yourself with the love that others have for you. That’s what makes a person beautiful, not angles or contours. You will never be objective about your appearance. But fortunately for you, your friends and family are never objective, either: They’re biased to see you through the way they smile when you walk into a room. They want every photo of you they can get their hands on, because each photo is tied to your memory.

You’re the worst judge of your appearance. Trust me. You look fine. The camera loves you. Now take a picture.