Photography has been part of my story since I was 11 years old.
That summer, I saved every dollar I could to buy my first point-and-shoot film camera. I wanted to capture our family memories in Puerto Rico. The year before, my parents had divorced, and my sisters and I were living between two worlds, summers with our dad in Puerto Rico and the school year with our mom in Florida.
I didn’t have the language for it then, but I was trying to preserve connection.
I wanted to remember my grandparents, my aunts, my uncles, my cousins. I wanted something tangible to bring back to Florida. A proof of joy, proof of love, proof that those summers were real. Photography became my way of holding onto what mattered.
As I grew older, my path led me into healthcare. I studied radiography, and in many ways, I was still taking photographs. Just of a different kind.
Instead of documenting memories, I was capturing anatomy. I was reading light and shadow in X-rays instead of golden hour portraits. I truly loved my career in healthcare. That chapter shaped me. It sharpened my discipline. It deepened my compassion. And the knowledge I gained would later serve my family in ways I never expected.
Life has a way of weaving purpose through every season.
What we thought would be my mom’s retirement season became her diagnosis season.
She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and everything changed.
For seven months, I had the honor of being her caretaker and patient advocate. I watched her fight with strength and faith. In that season, my purpose was crystal clear: to serve my mom the way she had always served us.
When she passed, life felt still.
I stepped away from healthcare. I spent time in prayer. I asked God for direction. I didn’t know what the next chapter looked like; I only knew I wanted to live intentionally. My mom’s passing made one thing undeniable: life is not promised. Love people well. Live with purpose. Leave a legacy.
After witnessing so many miracles during her health journey, I knew I didn’t want to just exist. I wanted to inspire, motivate, educate, and create something that outlived me.
Then came the unexpected answer.
My son’s school asked for parent volunteers to help with photography for social media and the yearbook. What felt small at the time became the doorway back to my first love.
Backstage before performances.
Field trips as the designated photographer.
I found myself watching light again.
Watching emotion.
Watching connection.
And I remembered this is what I’m meant to do.
In October 2022, I officially launched Lola Cotto Photography on Instagram with my Canon R6 and a 24–105mm kit lens. No big production. Just obedience and willingness.
As I explored different genres and refined my craft, I realized my heart beats strongest for personal branding and lifestyle photography.
Because it’s not just about photos.
It’s about helping people feel seen.
Helping entrepreneurs step into authority.
Helping families preserve legacy.
Helping women recognize their strength.
Today, I still do what 11-year-old me set out to do.
I preserve connection.
I tell stories.
I capture what matters.
But now, I do it with intention, faith, and the understanding that every image is more than a picture — it’s part of someone’s legacy.
And that’s work I don’t take lightly.
