jennifer channer

When I first started, I was terrified of being judged. My mum even said to me, “Don’t do this, you’ll lose all your customers.” And she was right in one way — because twelve years ago, this wasn’t done. Women didn’t gather in fields or forests to celebrate themselves. The only acceptable form of being photographed was boudoir — and even then, it was framed for the male gaze.

But something in me knew there had to be more.

My mum even said to me, “Don’t do this, you’ll lose all your customers.”

My Journey

I wanted to create a space where women could be seen for who they truly are — not for men, not filtered through shame, but simply free. This was before selfies, before women cheering each other on was the norm. Back then, the energy was: “Who does she think she is?” But now? We know better. We want each other to win. And Liberty has grown alongside that cultural shift, into something powerful and unstoppable.
Today, being a Liberty Photographer is about more than taking pictures. It’s about showing a woman her highest self, the version of her she’s forgotten or buried under years of other people’s stories. We’ve all had dust piled onto our mirrors — projections, generational patterns, and limiting beliefs handed down as truth. But the truth is: you get to accept or reject the story you’ve been given. And when you reject what no longer serves you, your whole life shifts.
That’s what Liberty does.
For me, this work is rooted in unconditional positive regard. a lesson I learned while training as a breastfeeding supporter, where my role was to listen without judgment and to see every woman in her best light. That became my philosophy for photography too: every woman I meet, whether I ever photograph her or not, I see as already enough, already doing her best, already carrying a story worth hearing.

When you live like that, you stop competing. You stop proving. You start absorbing. Every room becomes a circle, every story a mirror, every shoot a chance to learn as much as you give.