Someone asks me this every few months, usually over the phone, usually in a voice that has already made up its mind: should I delete my wedding photos? Sometimes it's a divorce. Sometimes it's a marriage that's fine but the gallery is 900 frames deep and the storage bill just went up. Sometimes it's a woman who hates how she looked that day and cannot stand seeing the previews come across her phone. I've been photographing weddings in Los Angeles for 17 years, and I'll give you the short version first: don't delete them. Archive them. Move them where you can't see them, put a date on the folder, and get on with your life.
That answer costs you about $60 and ten minutes. Deleting costs you an option you can never buy back.
I'll Be Blunt About Why I Say This
I have had exactly two couples call me years later asking whether I still had their files. In one case the marriage ended and the wife wanted the photos of her grandmother, who had died since. In the other, a father in the images passed and his daughter — who was seven at the wedding — wanted them for a memorial slideshow. Both women had deleted their own copies in the first raw year. Both were relieved I hadn't.
Here is the part most photographers won't tell you: most of us do not keep your files forever. My studio archives finished galleries for three years and RAW files for about 18 months, and I'm on the generous end. Plenty of LA shooters purge at 12 months, and gallery hosts like Pic-Time and Pixieset expire links on a subscription clock — when a photographer stops paying, the link dies whether or not anyone told you. If you delete your copy and assume the photographer is your backup, you're relying on someone else's storage budget. That's not a plan.
Separate the Marriage From the Photographs
The urge to delete almost never has anything to do with the pictures. It's about what they represent this week. And "this week" is the operative phrase, because the feeling moves. I have watched it move.
The photographs are also not just of you two. An eight-hour LA wedding gallery runs 500 to 800 edited frames, and a huge share of them are not the couple at all. Your mother laughing at a table. Your college roommate crying during the toast. A grandparent dancing who will not always be here. Cousins as children. Those are the only professional photographs many of those people will ever have taken of them, and they didn't hire me — you did, and you're now the accidental custodian of the family record. Nuking the folder deletes their day too.
If the marriage ended badly, you can absolutely cull. Pull the 40 frames of family and friends into a separate folder called "People I Love, 2019," and put the rest into cold storage. That's a middle path nobody offers you when you're angry.
What to Do Instead of Deleting, Step by Step
- Get everything off the shared cloud today. If the gallery is syncing to a phone that surfaces "3 years ago today" memories, that's the actual problem. Turn off Memories for that album, or move it out of Photos entirely.
- Buy one drive. A 2TB external SSD runs $110-$160 and holds every RAW file and edited JPEG from a full wedding several times over. If you only want the finished gallery, a 128GB flash drive at $18-$25 is plenty — I break down what size you actually need if you want the math.
- Copy the full-resolution files, not screenshots. Download the highest-resolution version your gallery offers. A "web-sized" download is roughly 1200px wide and useless for printing later.
- Make a second copy. One drive is not a backup. Put a duplicate on Backblaze ($99/year, unlimited) or a second drive at a parent's house.
- Label the folder plainly and close it. "Wedding 2019 — Archive." No album on your phone, no frame on the wall, no reminder. Out of daily life, not out of existence.
- Set a calendar note for two years out. Not to look at them. Just to decide again, with a cooler head.
The Cases Where I Actually Would Delete
I don't think "never delete anything" is honest advice, so here's where I'd support it. If the images document abuse, if seeing them is a genuine trauma trigger your therapist has named, or if a court order or restraining order is involved — delete, and don't let anyone including me talk you into archiving. Your safety outranks a photographic record every time.
I'd also support deleting the raw dump. Nobody needs 4,000 unculled RAW files of a day they'd rather not revisit. Keep the finished gallery, delete the rest. That's a reasonable trim, not a purge.
Take Them Off the Internet Instead
Nine times out of ten, what someone means by "delete my wedding photos" is "get them off Facebook and Instagram, and stop my photographer using them." Those are three different requests and all three are easy.
Untag yourself and archive the Facebook album — archiving hides it from everyone but you, so you keep it without broadcasting it. Ask your venue and florist to remove the images from their portfolios; most will, though a Knot or Zola vendor listing can take a few weeks to update. And email your photographer directly. A model release in a standard LA wedding contract lets me use your images for promotion, but every decent studio I know will pull them on request, no argument and no fee. I have taken galleries down within a day for couples who asked. If you'd rather never be in that position again, that's a question worth asking up front — it's on my list of what to ask before you sign.
One caveat: images already indexed by Google, reposted by guests, or scraped into wedding-blog roundups don't come back. Removal at the source is real, but it isn't erasure.
What I'd Do If It Were My Wedding
I'd separate my copy from my feed. I'd put the whole thing on a drive in a drawer, keep maybe a dozen frames of the people who mattered, and let the rest go quiet. Quiet is the goal — not gone.
Photographs are strange that way. They don't argue with you. They just wait. A picture you can't stand looking at in year one is often the thing you're grateful for in year twelve, when the anger is gone and what's left is a room full of people who showed up for you.
If You Never Loved the Photos in the First Place
Sometimes the impulse to delete isn't about the marriage — the photos just aren't good, and you resent having paid for them. That's a different problem with a different fix. Bad LA wedding coverage is usually a light and timing failure, not a moral one, and it's fixable: an anniversary shoot in the same dress runs $600 to $1,500 around Los Angeles, and it's the single most common thing my couples do about a gallery they don't like. I wrote a full breakdown of retaking wedding photos in LA, including the venues that let you back in.
The reason I run photography and cinematography out of one studio is precisely this: when the stills and the film come from one team on the same timeline, nobody is fighting over the same 20 minutes of golden hour, and the couple isn't managing two vendors during their own ceremony. LA golden hour is about 25 usable minutes at Malibu or a downtown rooftop in July. Two crews negotiating that window is how you end up with a gallery you'd rather delete.
Frequently Asked Questions
Does my photographer still have my wedding photos?
Maybe, but assume not. Most Los Angeles studios archive finished galleries for one to three years and RAW files for 12 to 18 months. Online gallery links from Pic-Time or Pixieset expire when the photographer's subscription lapses. Email and ask before you delete anything — and get your own full-resolution copy while the link is live.
Can I make my photographer delete my photos from their website?
Yes, and almost every reputable studio will do it for free within a few days. The images are usually theirs to use under a model release in the contract, but that's a right they'll waive on request. Ask by email so there's a record. What they can't do is remove copies already reposted by guests or indexed by Google.
Should I delete wedding photos after a divorce?
Not in the first year. Move them onto an external drive, turn off phone Memories for that album, and revisit in two years. The exception is any situation involving abuse or a court order — then delete without hesitation. Otherwise you're making a permanent decision at the single worst moment to make one.
What about the photos of my family and friends?
Keep those, separately. Pull 30 to 60 frames of parents, grandparents and close friends into their own folder before you archive the rest. For many of those people, your wedding is the last time they were professionally photographed, and relatives will ask you for these images years from now.
How much does it cost to keep them properly?
Under $200 once. A 2TB external SSD is $110 to $160, a 128GB flash drive for just the edited gallery is $18 to $25, and Backblaze cloud backup is $99 a year for unlimited storage. That's the entire price of never having to make this decision again.
If you're sitting with a gallery you're not sure you want, or you're planning a Los Angeles wedding and want photographs and a film you'll actually want to keep, I'd genuinely like to hear from you. Call or text 818.749.7039 and we can talk it through, or take a look at the work at ConneryFilm.com.
Meet the Author: Connery Davoodian Hello, I'm Connery Davoodian, the visionary behind ConneryFilm, and I'm thrilled to share insights from my 17-year journey through the world of wedding photography and videography. My passion extends beyond simply capturing images; it's about artfully weaving your unique love story into a timeless, cinematic masterpiece. My artistic path began long before I ever picked up a camera, deeply rooted in music as a singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist. This diverse background in directing, producing, and editing has cultivated a unique perspective, allowing me to approach each wedding not just as an event, but as a dynamic narrative waiting to be beautifully told. This blend of technical mastery and creative storytelling is the heartbeat of ConneryFilm, ensuring that every frame, every shot, and every film is infused with depth, emotion, and unparalleled artistic integrity. At ConneryFilm, we believe your wedding memories deserve nothing less than bespoke luxury. My philosophy centers on capturing the authentic, unscripted moments – the genuine smiles, the tender glances, the joyful laughter – that truly define your day. While we obsess over exquisite details and sophisticated aesthetics, our true joy comes from making you feel completely at ease, like a "friendor" who genuinely celebrates alongside you. This calm, organized presence allows your true personalities to shine, resulting in images and films that are as real and vibrant as your love itself. Based in the heart of Los Angeles, California, my team and I are privileged to serve couples across the globe, bringing our signature high-end wedding photography and videography to destination weddings worldwide. Through these blog posts, I aim to share invaluable insights, luxurious inspiration, and practical, fun advice to guide you through your wedding planning journey, helping you make informed decisions about preserving your most cherished moments. Thank you for trusting ConneryFilm to be a part of your extraordinary adventure. I'm excited to share my knowledge and passion with you, helping you create memories that will last forever.