I never set out to become an influencer… and if I’m being candid I still don’t really think of myself as one. Somewhere along the way, I built a platform, opportunities started showing up, and people began treating me like I had some level of notoriety that I don’t necessarily feel. It’s a strange place to exist in especially when you’re still just trying to figure out if you actually earned the attention or simply happened to be in the right places, knew the right people, and said the right things.

There are parts of it I genuinely love (the community for one) but there’s also a lot of insecurity that comes with being seen. The pressure to keep creating, the guilt that comes with opportunities, the feeling of not living up to the version of yourself people see online, and the constant question of whether any of this actually means something. This is about that weird space between being influential and actually feeling influential, and what it’s like when those two things don’t quite match.

I mean… how many times have you heard/ seen me say “I’m cooler online.”

I think that’s the part of this that’s hardest to explain. It would be easy to write this as “being an influencer is soooooo hard you guysss 😭” but that isn’t really what I’m trying to say. I’m incredibly grateful for what this platform has given me. The uncomfortable part is being grateful for something while simultaneously questioning whether you deserve it.

There’s a weird downside to being “influential” that I don’t think I talk about enough. I don’t really consider myself an “influencer”. I don’t feel famous. I don’t think I’m particularly special (my momma does though 😇). I just somehow became mildly influential and sometimes I still don’t understand how that happened.

There are days when I wonder if I actually earned any of this on my own merit or if I just happened to network with the right folks, just so happen to be in the right places, or look the part at the EXACT right time. The opportunities create content, the content creates more opportunities and suddenly you’re in this weird little cycle where you’re not really sure where the line between “I worked for this” and “I got lucky” even is. There are so many times I make content intending for it to do well and flop whereas other times I don’t intend to perform well and SURPRISE.

And then there’s the even stranger question of why people followed me in the first place. Some people followed because they thought I was pretty. Some because they thought what I do was cool. Some probably just liked the content. While I’m grateful for all of it, it’s weird to know that people can form an opinion of you based on a version of yourself that isn’t necessarily the version you see in the mirror.

The “pretty” part is especially complicated for me. A lot of what people see online is makeup, lighting, filters, angles, and a brain that has never been particularly kind when it comes to how I see myself. I can look at a photo that other people think is beautiful and still pick apart everything that’s wrong with it. So when someone tells me they followed me because they thought I was attractive, there’s a part of me that thinks “if you only knew how little I actually see that person when I look at myself.”

I think that’s part of why the attention can feel so strange. People are responding to a version of me that feels very real to them, while I’m sitting behind the screen knowing how much goes into creating that version. Platforms are heavily curated you guys. Seriously.

That disconnect doesn’t stop with how I look though. It extends to how people perceive me as a whole. The strangest part of having any kind of notoriety is being treated like someone you don’t necessarily feel like you are. Someone will recognize me, ask for my opinion, or reach out for advice, and I’m always a little surprised by it. I don’t walk around feeling important. I don’t think I’m particularly special. Most of the time, I still feel like the same person I was before any of this existed but other people don’t necessarily see it that way.

There are moments where I feel like I get lost somewhere between who I actually am and who people think I am. I don’t feel famous but sometimes I’m treated like I am a B list celebrity (from a Lifetime movie though, not cool indie house). There’s something oddly uncomfortable about realizing that your perception of yourself and everyone else’s perception of you can be two completely different and incongruent thigns.

There have been some ugly parts of this too. People in my personal life have been condescending about it. I’ve had people think it’s tacky or cringey, and I’ve had relationships change or disappear because of it. Sometimes I’ve felt embarrassed for caring about something that other people clearly don’t support in me. I’ve had my job capabilities judged heavily because I liked to share pictures of me loving my job. Some days I feel like I’m expected to dance because I built the stage 🐵.

Creating content can feel like a weird obligation when you know people expect it from you. There’s pressure to keep showing up, keep posting, keep being interesting while the bigger pressure for me is that I genuinely care about the people who reach out to me. If someone asks for advice, an opinion, for help…I don’t really know how to separate that from the person behind the message. I feel personally invested. I don’t want my platform to turn into a place where people feel like they have to pay for access to me or where every interaction becomes transactional.

Then there’s the guilt. I love the opportunities social media has given me. I’ve met incredible people, been invited to things I never expected to be part of, have gotten to support brands and small businesses that I genuinely believe in. Sometimes I get free stuff and even though I know that posting about it can genuinely help a small business, a part of me still feels like I’m getting away with something.

I think that’s the hardest part of all of this. I’m grateful and uncomfortable at the same time. I’m proud of what I’ve built and still wonder if I deserve it. I love the opportunities while sometimes feeling guilty for having them. I can recognize that I’ve worked hard while also knowing that luck, timing, relationships, and a little bit of privilege played a part.

Maybe I don’t need to pick one version of the story. Maybe I can acknowledge that I worked hard for some of this, got lucky with some of it, and benefited from people who believed in me along the way or shared my vision. Maybe being influential doesn’t mean I have to feel important.

I can just be myself with my weird little corner of the internet that somehow became bigger than I ever expected …whether anyone likes it or not, continue to share my passion.