Why I've Decided to Invest in a Public Presence

No, but really this time...

in spirit of this post, a recent photo of me being the designated seashell holder.

This post almost completely contradicts one I published back in January about building a brand outside of myself. I debated whether I should share something that goes against what I said just a few months ago, but that’s the nature of growth. When you’re learning and evolving, your ideas do too. Circumstances shift, plans don’t always go as expected, and when you keep showing up and doing the work, you often come out on the other side with a newfound perspective.

If our minds aren’t changing, are we really growing?

So… here I am, writing something that contradicts what I said before. Even though my perspective has shifted, my original post still holds truth. It can continue to resonate with people in certain seasons of their journey—just as I hope this one will, too.

If you didn’t read that first post and are curious to know what it’s about without losing your place here, it was a personal reflection on why I’ve decided to build a brand outside of myself. It went into detail on why I don’t feel called to grow a “personal brand” and gave specific examples as to why building an external brand seemed like the right decision for me at the time.

Earlier this year there were several potential (big) projects in the works. We thought we were going to sell our home in Austin and re-invest in a property here in Paris that I would then turn into a short-term studio apartment rental. I was planning on building a hospitality focused brand around that, which I was very excited about (and still remain excited about for the future.)

The initial reason for selling our home this summer was that our tenant had planned to stay for just one year. Rather than going through the process of finding someone new, we figured selling made the most sense. But unexpectedly, she asked to renew her lease for another year—just as we are also navigating our own move into an unfurnished apartment here in Paris. Given the timing, renewing her lease felt like the smartest move for this next busy season of life.

So, with the rental property no longer being an idea I’d be pursuing, I went back to the drawing board—a position I seem to regularly find myself.

The idea of investing in my “personal brand” has never fully sat right with me. Coming from a background in branding, the concept of branding myself has always felt a bit off. That’s why I’ve chosen to frame this conversation around building a “public presence” instead. To me, that feels more approachable, and well…less personal. A public presence is an intentional expression of identity—a curated version of yourself that you choose to share. It’s not meant to represent the entirety of who you are.

When working with external brands, there’s a certain clarity and structure that branding provides. It’s easier to stay 'on-brand' when you're following clearly defined guidelines. But when it comes to your personal presence, those “brand guidelines” become much less concrete.

Perfectionism, self-doubt, and fear of being seen have often held me back from fully stepping into my potential. And yet, growing an audience has been a goal of mine for years. As a multi-passionate person with endless ideas and projects I dream of bringing to life, having an aligned, supportive community to grow alongside feels not just helpful, but essential.

No, I don’t want to be an influencer or a content creator. But yes, I do want to freely create and share my work, in whatever form it may take, whether that’s writing here on Substack or launching a future venture.

I’ll admit: I’ve been part of the “social media haters club” that many creatives have joined. Why should we commodify our creativity? Why create for free on platforms that ultimately profit from our work? I’ve told myself I shouldn’t have to be an influencer or grow a huge audience just to get paid for what I want to do. I’ve echoed these sentiments that criticize the very platforms so many of us rely on. And while I still believe there’s truth in all of it, I also can’t deny the reality of the world we live in, or the “game” we sometimes have to play to reach certain goals.

That said, not everyone needs to grow an online audience, build a following, or start a newsletter. For some, these platforms work just fine in the background, without needing to take center stage. But for certain kinds of goals, especially in creative work, building a presence and connecting with an audience can make a real difference, whether we want to admit it or not.

And if I’m being really honest with myself, I wonder if I’ve been hiding behind these narratives. Using them as an excuse to stay small, to avoid showing up fully, and, in the process, keeping myself from pursuing the bigger dreams I know I’m capable of.

Lately, one question keeps resurfacing for me: What would I regret not doing in 5 or 10 years?

This desire to build a community—to truly put myself out there, to share my voice, my work, and the visions I hold—feels like something I would deeply regret not pursuing. It’s something I’ve talked about for years, a dream I’ve carried quietly, but one that fear has kept me from fully embracing.

Maybe you’ve felt those fears too, things like:

• WHAT WILL THEY THINK? WHAT IF I EMBARRASS MYSELF? They could be friends, family, colleagues, people from high school, or even the general population you’ve never met before. If I’m being honest, this has probably been my biggest obstacle.

• HOW DOES THIS MAKE ME LOOK? WHAT DOES THIS SAY ABOUT ME/MY IDENTITY? As I mentioned earlier, perfectionism is part of the reason I’ve struggled to stay committed in building my online presence. I hold too much weight to each piece of content I put into the world, attempting to carefully craft how I desire to be perceived.

• WHAT IF I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH? What if the content I create or the stories I share aren’t creative enough? Original enough? Unique enough? Interesting enough?

• WHAT IF I FAIL OR QUIT (AGAIN)? What if I pour my energy into this, only to stop once more? What if I find another reason (or excuse) to walk away, and later look back wishing I had just kept going? That’s exactly where I find myself now: wishing I had stayed the course years ago, even without clarity, direction, or certainty.

Do I want social media to be a major focus in my life? Honestly, no I don’t. But at the same time, I recognize that in today’s world, many of the big visions I hold are waiting on the other side of showing up consistently, sharing my work, and putting myself out there. And not just for visibility, but to offer something of value, to support others, to create something that resonates and inspires.

I truly believe we can each find a way to engage online that feels aligned with our values, identity, and boundaries. It’s all about perspective—like so much in life. I also don’t believe it has to be one or the other: I think you can invest in your public presence and build an external brand as well. We need to stop giving ourselves self-prescribed ultimatums. That it has to be this or that. Why not both?

I don’t have a perfectly mapped-out strategy. I don’t have a crystal-clear voice or a tidy list of four content pillars that define what I want to be known for.

What I do have is a desire to consistently show up and share. To create more often. To experiment more freely. And to see where that leads. And honestly, it feels necessary to mention that in a world that will be increasingly influenced by AI, establishing our presence and sharing our stories as humans seems more dire than ever.

The biggest fear I carry—bigger than the fear of failure, judgement, or inconsistency—is the fear that I’ll look back five years from now and regret playing small. That I’ll regret letting fear stand between me and the life, the potential, the dreams I know I’m capable of realizing—and you are too.

I’d love to know your thoughts on the subject, so please share with me!

And, as always, thank you for being here.

Until next week,