She's gone nicheless

This time last year, I ghosted my “professional” Instagram account (LOL at that phrase) and podcast. Both of these things had evolved over the years, and most recently represented my business, which quietly closed up shop around the same time. Not due to some dramatic failing or falling out, but more a personal need for stability (more on that to come, I’m sure) and a desire to try something new…again.

You see, I’m somewhat of a shapeshifter. I don’t have a linear career, and I’ve had more than a few personal eras. It’s something folks might call being multifaceted or having a portfolio career or embodying different archetypes, but I have always struggled to see it as anything more than a sign of innate flakiness. With years of therapy, I’ve grown to accept tolerate this about myself, but like many personal bugaboos, it’s been flaring up in a shiny new costume recently.

You see, a year ago, at the time of the ghosting, I had recently accepted a new “big girl job”— a marketing role in tech. Up until then, I had worked almost exclusively at small, scaling companies or on my own. In those environments, my professional skills (marketing strategy, brand building, content creation ) overlapped with my personal interests (creative expression, community building, making art), and both seemed to be growing in tandem. I got to art direct photoshoots, build retail spaces, craft content ecosystems, and mentor teams. For years, my creative muscles remained toned from my work life, making it easier to pick up a paint brush, or a camera, or a needle and thread on the weekends and make something just for fun.

However, due to a series of changes both outside of (getting laid off, COVID) and within (ego, perfectionism) my control, I reached a point where I was relying too heavily on my creativity to pay my bills. I was burnt out, unhealthy, and turning 35 thinking “what the fuck is going on here” (spoiler alert: still not sure).

I’m pleased to report that I am happier, healthier, and more grounded than I’ve been in a long time. Leaving small business life and entrepreneurship was an identity shift, one I have a lot more to say about, but the reason I’m writing today is that I’ve found myself wanting to make things again. I’ve asked friends about their relationship with creativity. I’ve picked up books, listened to podcasts, and started lists of ideas in my phone.

So what’s the holdup? Well, it turns out the relationship between my work and creativity provided me a little inlet from that nagging “you’re a flake” feeling because I didn’t have to choose a lane or a niche or a medium. My work created the container complete with parameters, goals, audiences, and accountability. I made things in groups, in collections, as a campaign, or a series. For years, I used my precious energy as a key to unlock specific problems, not necessarily as a maliable form of self-expression. And in that way, it protected me from having to be vulnerable and do/say/create something just because I wanted to. I mean, can you imagine anything more terrifying???

So it seems we have a co-dependency issue. Or perhaps this is simply a symptom of being a slightly artistic person living under late-stage capitalism. I guess we’ll never know (it’s both!).

Even the idea of this substack has been rolling around in my head for a while. In fact, I had to Google how to change my subdomain (like a Boomer) before publishing this post because this account was created 18 months ago and has sat empty because I thought I needed a crisp and clear POV before hitting publish. And frankly, I still feel that way, but I am trying to feel differently. And the action is very much the juice.

So this post, and whatever this space turns into, is an attempt at self discovery—at remembering how to write in my own voice, how to accept and express my thoughts and create in public without the goal of building a business or an income stream or a strategy or, even an audience (although if you are here and reading this, hi, i love you, thank you so much, please stay). Maybe the niche is the friends we make along the way.