Truth is I'm Tired.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about how I want to show up on the internet. Not just what I post, but why I post at all. How I share information. What I feel obligated to say versus what I genuinely want to offer the world.

Burnout is real.
Transition is real.
And getting tired of a thing you once loved is very real.

I am tired of the internet. I am tired of marketing. Tired of everything being optimized, monetized, and reduced to performance. Somewhere along the way, creativity became transactional, and I did not notice how much that was draining me until I hit a wall.

For the past year and a half, I have been grinding. Truly grinding. Working for myself, securing clients, juggling multiple social media profiles, learning how to be a business while also being the product. On paper, it looked like success. I was doing what people tell you to do. Build your own lane. Be your own boss. Make it work no matter what.

And I did. Until I didn’t

This past summer, I stepped into what I thought would be a more stable role. A social media manager position with a rescue organization. It felt aligned. A mission I believed in. A consistent paycheck. Something that felt like a break from the chaos of freelancing.

But that toxic work environment sent me into an anxious spiral.

It was high stress in a way that had very little to do with the work itself and everything to do with control, micromanagement, and constantly having to prove my value. Every move scrutinized. Every idea questioned. Approval processes stacked on top of approval processes. The kind of environment where you are never quite sure if you are doing well or just doing enough to not get in trouble.

I found myself overthinking. Carrying anxiety home with me in a way that felt unfamiliar and honestly alarming.

That experience forced me to confront something I had been avoiding. Stability does not matter if it comes at the cost of your nervous system. It also made me realize how exhausted I was from tying my entire sense of worth to performance, whether for myself or for someone else.

At the same time, I desperately wanted something that felt tethered to real life again. Something that existed whether or not an algorithm cared.

I always knew I wanted to go back to working in schools. The predictability feels grounding in a way the internet never could. Being connected to people in real time, in real spaces, doing work that has an immediate and tangible impact.

So I began applying to jobs firmly in my comfort zone. Schools. Counseling. Working with students.

And almost immediately, I was reminded why I spent so much money, time, and energy securing my degrees in the first place. Not only am I knowledgeable, I am deeply passionate. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that. I forgot how good it feels to do work that is rooted in care, presence, and connection rather than constant visibility.

Since the pandemic, I have been on a nonstop hamster wheel of hustle culture and entrepreneurship. And honestly, it has been fun. I have met incredible people. I have built things from scratch. I have proven to myself that I am capable, resourceful, and resilient. And WOW, have I learned a lot about myself. And WOW, have I learned a lot about the trade off connecting your paycheck to social media.

The constant performance.
The optics.
The politics.
The pressure to always be on.

That world is still a part of me. I will never lose my ability to create, communicate, or build something from nothing. But I think I need a break.

I have put myself out there consistently for five years. My ideas, my face, my creativity, and my livelihood all tied together and placed on display. And it is nice to step back from that. It is nice to not have my creativity up for consumption at all times.

It is nice to simply show up and be.

I was also forced to admit something uncomfortable along the way. I was a terrible boss to myself at times. And often, an even worse employee for my clients. Not because I did not care, but because I was forcing myself into systems and roles that did not actually fit how I function or thrive. Knowing how to run a business is a skill I will always carry with me. But it is also okay to admit when something is no longer serving you.

For the past few weeks, before entering the new year, I have been quietly trying to figure out what is next.

I feel like I should be doing something. Posting something. Editing something. Creating something. But the spark is not there right now. And instead of fighting that, I am trying to listen to it.

I know I still want to show up.
I know I still want to share my life in some way.
I know I still want to create or discover a new talent or build something meaningful.

I just do not know what that looks like yet.

And I want to allow myself the time and space to figure that out. I am choosing to allow myself to play again. To rediscover what feels good without needing to explain it or monetize it. To put things into the world when I want and how I want, not because it fits a brand or strategy.

Right now, I am choosing presence over performance. And that feels like the most honest version of showing up I have had in a long time. And for now, that is enough.

If you’re in a similar season of slowing down or rethinking things, drop a comment. Sometimes it helps just knowing you’re not the only one.

In other, far less existential-crisis news, we still need to do a full rundown of my South Africa trip and unpack my newly discovered obsession with movies. Those things are still bringing me joy, curiosity, and a sense of play.

If you want to see what that looks like in real time, check out my movie review TikTok. It is one of the ways I am experimenting with content again. No pressure. Just sharing what I am watching and how it makes me feel.

It is a small, low-stakes way I am allowing myself to show up on social media for now. And honestly, that feels like enough.

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