The Crime of Being Boring as a Creator

I miss the version of myself from 2023 who had a full-time job but posted fearlessly and relentlessly online on her lunch breaks. Growing a TikTok to 1-million followers. I remember there was a few day span where I was gaining 50k followers a day.

That version of me wasn’t worried about how the audience perceived her. She had so much to say and was so curious about the world around her. I’m so proud of her.

I became a full-time creator in June of 2023. My last day at my full-time job was on a Friday and I got on a plane that Saturday morning to fly to speak on a panel at my first Cannes Lions. I didn’t even know what Cannes Lions was.

My biggest fear as a creator was failing and having to go back to a “regular” 9 to 5 job. At the same time, I still understand what a privilege it is that I have a college degree and could easily get another corporate job if needed.

I blew up talking about my marketing theories and trend predictions. But overtime, I grew resentful of that box I put myself in. Sometimes I didn’t feel like I chose this niche but the niche chose me. It was something I was really good at.

But overtime, I ran out of things to talk about. I felt like there was only so many trending topics that I could dive into. I felt like I was letting my audience down by no longer feeling inspired and losing steam.

But another factor at play that I didn’t process until much later was something my ex said to me when we broke up. He confirmed my biggest subconscious fear that could not only affect my personal life but it could also impact my ability to put a roof over my head.

When he came to get the last of his mail, he told me that the reason he cheated on me after almost 4-years together was because he realized I was a boring person. He grew bored of me.

I didn’t go on a date for over year-and-a-half because I was terrified that if a man that I liked had more than a few conversations with me then my mask would slip. He would realize I wasn’t actually an interesting, fun and thoughtful person. If I could keep some distance from anyone I liked then I could just remain a figment of their imagination. They could project an interesting version of Coco in their mind on to me and that was okay.

Not only did this fear leak into my dating life but it took over my creator career like a tsunami. I became terrified that my audience, who I worked so hard to find and connect with, would wake up one day and realize it was all a lie. They would realize that I was boring.

Instead of hunkering down, pushing through, and posting more — like the fearless 2023 version of Coco would do — I instead turned inward. I stopped posting as much. I became terrified that if I posted too much that the audience would have the same revelation that my ex did. Their love would turn into contempt. They would realize there are more interesting creators, podcasters, marketers. I felt like if I posted less, I would become mysterious. Like the men I had crushes on, my audience would project an interesting version of me in their heads.

This “boring” label combined with one traumatic thing that happened in 2024, that I will save for a memoir one day, caused me to become desperate to heal.

My friend told me that one day it will be like a leaf that just falls off a tree. Something that brought you pain daily would no longer matter. That day still hasn’t come.

I understood consciously that I took a few emotional hits that made me lose the 2023 version of me who was so interesting, ambitious and excited about life. I am trying so hard to find that girl again.

There is a marketing saying that goes, “In order to be interesting, you have to have interests”.

Some of my more viral video formats come from ideas I get while reading books. I don’t always have to rely on finding things about myself that people will care about. I can instead focus on what I care about.

This isn’t something that is fully fleshed out yet. I am still in therapy figuring out how to find that 2023 version of me again. And I hope the practice of challenging myself to post again on platforms like Substack that I can reignite that ambitious version of me that is hiding in there somewhere.

Leave a comment