The Strange Shift from “Marketing Guru” to Just Being Me

Not long ago, I was writing like a guru.

Not intentionally. But looking back, it’s clear I was performing. I used the tone, structure, and advice you’d expect from someone who was trying to be taken seriously. Someone who wanted to be followed. I packaged my thoughts like little TED Talks.

I optimized for engagement, not honesty.

And here I am now, just wanting to write what’s real.

It’s a strange transition.

Marketing Myself vs. Sharing Myself

When you're in "marketing mode," everything feels like a pitch.

You frame your personal stories around lessons. You filter out the messiness. You smooth over the rough edges so the whole thing becomes palatable, polished, and “valuable.” Even your struggles get edited into inspirational arcs.

But when you stop trying to convert people and just write... the energy changes.

You're not building a brand. You're building a record.

You're not convincing. You're connecting.

You're not a teacher. You're a fellow traveler.

Reading My Old Work Feels Like Reading a Stranger

Some of those old posts still hold solid advice. The knowledge was real. But the voice? It feels inflated now. Like I was wearing someone else's jacket—too big, too confident, too eager to impress.

Now I find myself craving small, honest expressions.

A paragraph about how grey the sky looked this morning. A short reflection on failure that doesn't try to fix it. A memory from childhood with no moral at the end.

The Pressure Is Off, and That’s Both Wonderful and Uncomfortable

When you're not trying to sell or impress, you don't get the same dopamine hits.

Fewer likes. Fewer subscribers. No call to action. Just... silence sometimes.

But that silence is full of something else: peace.

Writing for myself—writing like I'm not on stage—feels like coming home. I’m still unlearning the need to be “useful.”

I’m learning that being present, being true, might be the most useful thing of all.

While This Is a Pivot, It’s One with Purpose

It's a shift toward writing with intention.

That doesn’t mean I’ll stop sharing strategy or tips. I probably will. I like being helpful. I like clarity. I still believe in offering value—but not at the cost of authenticity.

The difference now is why I’m doing it.

Not to build a brand persona. Not to chase algorithms.

But because something feels worth saying.

Because it came from lived experience, not a marketing playbook.

That’s the kind of writing I want to do moving forward.

Not perfectly polished. Just genuinely mine.

And honestly? That feels weird… but it also feels right.