Notes from an Anti-Influencer

I’ve been blogging since 2006, but if you look at my following, you’d probably wonder why it hasn’t “taken off.” Honestly? I know exactly why.

I’m not an influencer—not in the traditional sense, at least. I don’t follow trends. I don’t curate my feed. I prefer being behind the scenes unless I randomly feel like making a funny reel. My content doesn’t always look polished or viral-ready, and I’m okay with that.

Over time, I’ve realized that while I enjoy sharing parts of my life, I don’t want to share everything. Especially when it comes to my kids or deeply personal things—there’s always a tug-of-war between being open and protecting our privacy. And maybe that boundary has slowed down my growth. But it’s a boundary I need.

That said, I still want to grow. I still want to partner with brands I believe in. I still want to earn from doing something I love—creating content, telling stories, building community. But I want to do it without pretending, without having to fit a mold.

This isn’t about calling anyone out. I have friends who’ve built beautiful, thriving careers online, and I admire their hustle. It just turns out—I’m built differently. I move slower. I post when I can. I show up messy. And instead of performing for reach, I share to connect.

So maybe I’m not an influencer. Maybe I’m something else.

What even is an anti-influencer?

For me, it means showing up as-is. Sharing what’s real, not just what’s aspirational. Saying “I like this, I use this,” without needing to convert it into a campaign. Being okay with quiet growth. Prioritizing connection over curation.

An anti-influencer doesn’t reject influence—it just means influence looks different. It’s rooted in honesty, not perfection. It’s built on trust, not algorithms. It’s slower, quieter, but (hopefully) just as impactful.

I’m writing this as a reintroduction, really. If you’ve followed me for a while, maybe you’ve noticed my inconsistencies, my silence, my stops and starts. Life gets busy. Energy dips. And yet, I keep coming back—because sharing helps me feel seen. Because community matters.

If you’re the same way—quiet, thoughtful, doing your best—I hope you feel at home here. You don’t have to be always-on. You don’t need to be perfectly styled. You just have to be you.