How I Found My Voice by Losing My Audience

A blog post I didn’t think I’d write but here we are…

I’m not sharing this to brag—seriously, just hear me out.

Lately I’ve been reflecting a lot. I just recently passed the same number of followers I had two years ago: 53.5K. But what most people don’t know is that, after reaching 53K back then, I lost a lot.

My numbers dropped hard.

And I wish I could say it didn’t bother me, that I just shrugged and moved on—but I didn’t.

I was frustrated. Fed up. Genuinely tempted to delete everything and disappear.

I had an ego about it, too.

I kept thinking, I have something to offer, so why isn’t it landing? Why isn’t it growing?

I was creating, but something just wasn’t clicking. Not with me, and not with the people I wanted to reach.

The truth is, I never wanted to grow just for the sake of numbers. I wanted to build a space that felt like something—something that connected with people who shared my interests, my values, my weird little creative brain.

I wanted to create a community, not a crowd.

So I kept going. I slowed down. I rethought everything. And eventually, I found something I hadn’t planned for: my voice.

Sharing my writing—my life, really—ended up becoming the foundation of my creativity.

Not the visuals. Not the stats. The words.

And the more honest I was, the more I started to attract the people I’d actually been trying to reach all along.

So if you’re where I was—lost in your voice, unsure what you’re building, stuck comparing yourself to numbers and growth charts—this is your reminder to be patient.

It’s like figuring out what you want to do with your life: messy, slow, nonlinear. But always worth it.

I think sometimes we have to let the lost days play out… and trust that they’ll lead us to the days we feel found.

I had to lose a lot to find what mattered.

And what matters to me now is showing up in a way that might inspire someone else to start over, embrace the mess, fall in love, quit the job, or just keep going.

Because as much as it might look like I’ve figured it out—I haven’t.

Right now, I’m just choosing to be loud about the mess being the moment.

Finding your voice, discovering “your thing,” isn’t some easy, magical walk in the park. It’s walking. It’s running. It’s getting out of breath. It’s wondering if you should turn back.

But it’s also joy. And every step toward what lights you up is a step that counts.

So whether you’ve been here for a while or just clicked in, I hope you know your presence means everything.

And I can only hope that my presence in yours offers something back—whatever it is you need right now, wherever you are on your not-so-linear path.

That’s all.
For now.

Also… this is somehow my fourth blog post and I still can’t believe I’m actually doing this. So, if you’ve been reading along, thank you.

And if something in here landed, feel free to drop a comment—always love hearing what found you.