Being an Instagram influencer sounds glamorous — free trips, fancy brunches, and perfectly timed golden-hour shots. And yes, sometimes it is exactly that. But most of the time? It’s me sitting on the floor in sweatpants, surrounded by half-open PR boxes, trying to find decent lighting and the motivation to smile for a photo I’ll delete ten times before posting.
People see a highlight reel, not the bloopers behind it. Like the time I spent two hours shooting a “candid” coffee photo that ended with a spilled latte and a burnt tongue. Or the travel vlog where I looked calm and radiant, even though I’d missed my flight that morning and hadn’t slept in 30 hours. It’s funny — how something that looks effortless can take so much effort.
What most don’t realize is how lonely it can get. You spend hours online connecting with thousands, but sometimes forget to look up and connect with the person sitting right next to you. I used to chase likes like they were validation, thinking success meant numbers. But the truth is — the best feeling isn’t when a post goes viral, it’s when someone messages me saying, “Hey, what you wrote helped me through a bad day.”
Over time, I’ve learned that influence isn’t about being perfect; it’s about being real. The internet doesn’t need another flawless face — it needs more people who are okay admitting they’re figuring things out too.
So, when the camera’s off, I still try to live the moments I post about — messy, unfiltered, and genuine. Because someday, I want my followers to remember not how my feed looked, but how my words made them feel.
After all, beyond the filters, hashtags, and edits — I’m just another person trying to make sense of life, one post at a time.