No One Can Tell You How to Be You

It’s currently 9:50 p.m. East Coast time as I’m writing this and to be honest, I’m not even sure if I’m going to post this as I write it, but I just need to brain vomit onto some type of paper to get these thoughts out.

Over the last two years, I’ve gone on the long and arduous journey of being a “content creator,” which I hate. Not the journey, just the job title. I just think it’s so overused but that’s beside the point.

I started a podcast. I dove into making comedy skits. I created videos on sports and music history. And through it all, I’ve had countless moments of heroic triumph as well as crying on my bathroom floor contemplating if this means anything when in the end, we all die and can’t take any of this with us to the other side or wherever we go.

Trust me, I know my brain is f**ked up.

Oh yeah, buckle up.

This isn’t meant to be some Tony Soprano “what happened to the strong silent types?” therapy session with Dr. Melfie. I just want other people in my position who may be feeling similar emotions that they’re not alone.

For me, whenever I see what I consider to be a very dumb and simple Tik Tok or Instagram video go viral, I get angry. I feel jealous because I put so much hard work into all my content but it feels like I don’t get recognized for it.

That’s the most frustrating part of all this. All those hours perfecting animations or working on thumbnails in Adobe Photoshop used to create art, yet because some 12-year-old in Montana posted a comment disagreeing with me, all that goes to waste and I get in my head about how much my video sucks or how dumb my point in a podcast may have sounded.

My podcast hasn’t necessarily exploded into a global sensation, my Tik Tok hasn’t racked up thousands of followers and I’m not getting any brand partnerships any time soon when it feels like I’ve been posting on these platforms for years.

But that’s the trap. All the fame and flexing that other people do sucks me into the wormhole of chasing trends and making stuff that I hope the algorithms will churn out to millions of strangers who have no idea who I am as a person.

And, to be more honest, I don’t want the fame. I don’t want to experience the pressure of what people like the Kardashians or D’Amelio go through every day. People expect you to behave a certain way 24/7 and be nice to them always.

That’s exhausting and the success clouds the love and vision you have for yourself.

Even as I’m writing this, I’m going back to each paragraph and editing sentences so that the audience will like this. That’s the artistic struggle I face almost every day. If I do what I want to do, will people like it?

As sad as that is, that mindset of needing social approval is how humans have advanced as far as we have to this point, but the difference is that we have instant access to the thoughts and actions of billions of people around the world.

So I just compare myself to people I’ve never met before and grow resentful of the fact that these people whom I’ve never interacted with before are on a faster track than I am, at least on the surface.

But maybe that’s just not my future and that’s the positive I’ve been hanging on to for the last few years. The days of struggle have taught me the importance of appreciating those who do support you and ha

ve taught me to be careful of whom I tell my dreams.

Yet despite all this, I can’t look into the future. No matter what trending Tik Tok sound or Instagram reel format I use, there’s no secret or formula to building your vision.

You just have to work your ass off, solve problems on the fly to truly reach your goals, and pray to God that a little luck goes your way to truly achieve your goals.

No matter what “WHY ALL YOUTUBERS FAIL” video or “THIS HACK BLEW ME UP!” short you watch, they can’t teach you how to be you.

I can only be the best me. You can only be the best you. Even though the future is absolutely terrifying, the fact it is unknown makes it all the more exciting. It’s all 50/50.

You have a 50% chance of failing, but a 50% chance of succeeding at the same time, so why not do it your way? Why not at least be you and say you invested every part of yourself into your dream while not sacrificing your authenticity?

If you’re feeling doubt or fear of the future, I get it. I’m there right now as I’m writing this.

I have no idea how people are going to read this and take it, but this is how I feel at the moment. This is me and I’d rather be me than pretend to be someone I’m not, and I’m not going to let someone in a comments section or a classmate who wants me to go to a party because it’s a Tuesday knock me off course and change who I am.

I got dreams, I’m sure you do too, so why let anyone who doesn’t know you and your values, your priorities, and your mind dictate what you do?

This is your life. You get to control what happens next.