Hiding in a Hyper-Visible Online World

Officially, I am not the only one reading these musings, and I’d be lying if I said I am still as unfiltered as I was when it was just me here.

Knowing that people are watching you when you expected to be alone can be enough to induce anxiety, and this is a bad time to run out of my anxiety meds!

All weekend I struggled with what to write, not because I have writer’s block but because I am not moving in silence anymore. I probably never was, but that’s the thing about being a Pisces. I love my little delusion bubble.

“How visible do I want to be?” is something I keep asking myself. The lack of clarity shows up with my brand + business, but the answer is not as cut + dry as “you have imposter syndrome” or some other BS that the thought leaders in my industry like weaponizing.

Visibility is about taking up space unapologetically. It’s about feeling comfortable with showing up in life. It speaks to the comfort level one has with owning their entitlement to existing with or without validations.

You are always visible.

If you are online, you are visible to everyone who “sees” you.

If you are offline, you are visible to everyone who SEES you.

It’s interesting how we measure success based on how many people see us. It explains why we equate thriving with likes on social. I hear it all the time and am left to answer for myself.

Why don’t I want to be visible?

Why don’t I want to be seen?

Is it because my brand is not “clear” enough or my business model doesn’t factor in social acceptance as a driving source of currency?

Is it because I lived believing I shouldn’t have been born?

Is it because I chase the illusion of perfection while secretly hoping to move the goalpost every time I reach a milestone?

Optimizing our lead magnets can only do so much to address why we stay hidden. Eventually, we will need to address the root cause.

In my line of work, the root cause is rarely discussed because, as a strategist, I can’t help you with healing trauma. Not to mention, there’s more money to be made by putting a bandaid on the situation.

Would you come back to another program if you healed the shit that caused you to need a program, to begin with?

As a storyteller, I hope to give you some support and guidance to navigate the inner chaos so you can leverage your imperfections to cultivate a meaningful impression.

The problem with that is the rising trend of exploiting one’s emotional trauma for likeability.

Imagine having barely addressed your childhood wounds to see how much people resonate with you dancing as you retell a traumatic memory with EDM music in the background.

You don’t have to perform if you don’t want to, but you have to perform if you don’t want to. That seems to be the message online, whether it’s TikTok or Substack.