I've Turned My Life Into Content and Lost Myself

From the EMBERS & ASHES advice column: Wisdom for the Quietly Disillusioned

What remains of you when your inner life becomes content? Where is the line between sharing wisdom and commodifying your deepest experiences? What happens when the brand overtakes the human behind it?

Dear Chandra,

I've spent the last five years building my personal brand as a wellness influencer. On the surface, I'm living the dream – brand partnerships, a book deal in the works, 300K followers who seem to hang on my every word about mindfulness and authenticity.

The irony isn't lost on me. There's nothing mindful about the way I obsessively check engagement metrics. Nothing authentic about the carefully curated version of myself I present. I stage "candid" moments of serenity while my heart races with anxiety about whether the post will perform well.

I started this because I genuinely wanted to help people find peace in a chaotic world. Now I feel like I'm contributing to the noise. My own peace is non-existent. I'm terrified of becoming irrelevant, but I'm equally terrified that I've lost myself completely in this persona I've created.

My audience expects positivity and wisdom, but lately, all I feel is emptiness and confusion. I can't be honest because my livelihood depends on maintaining this image. I've turned my inner life into content, and now I don't know where the brand ends and I begin.

Is there a way back to something real? Or do I need to burn it all down and start over?

— Lost in My Own Feed

Dear Lost in Your Own Feed,

The cage is always prettiest just before you realize it's a cage.

Your words carry the unmistakable ache of someone who built an altar to authenticity, only to find themselves engaged in the most sophisticated performance of their life. The cruel irony of it catches in the throat, doesn't it? To speak of presence while your attention is fractured across metrics and engagement. To preach self-acceptance while curating a self that increasingly feels like a stranger.

Here's the truth beneath the algorithm: You haven't lost yourself. You've just buried her under layers of marketable wisdom and filtered light.

She's still there – the woman who genuinely wanted to help others find peace. She's the one writing to me now, the one who can still recognize the hollow echo in her own carefully crafted words. She's the one brave enough to name the emptiness where purpose used to live.

I want you to know this isn't unique to you. The commodification of inner life affects everyone who turns wisdom into content, healing into products, awakening into aesthetic. It's the particular wound of our time – this pressure to package and perform even our most sacred transformations.

So, do you burn it all down? Not necessarily. Fire's only one way to create change. Sometimes what's needed is more like the patient work of archaeology – a careful brushing away of accumulated layers to rediscover what lies beneath.

Try this: Create a small, sacred pocket of your life that will never become content. A practice, a relationship, a creative expression that belongs only to you. No documentation. No audience. No metrics. Just the raw, unfiltered experience of being human, with all its mess and magic.

Notice how it feels to engage with life without the reflexive question of "how will this translate to my platform?" Notice the relief in your body when you step outside the performance, even temporarily.

Then, bring that same quality of attention to your work. What parts still light you up, independent of how they're received? What wisdom do you genuinely need to hear right now? Share that – not from your persona but from your humanity.

You might lose some followers. Your engagement might dip. Algorithms might punish your sudden swerve toward the unpolished truth. But you'll gain something far more precious: the feeling of your hands on the wheel of your own life again.

This isn't about dramatic exits or public declarations. It's about quiet reclamation. It's about remembering that you are not a brand. You are a wild, uncategorizable human whose worth has nothing to do with your follow count or your last viral post.

The path back to yourself won't be perfect or photogenic. It rarely is. But it's the only journey that matters.

Your feed is not your life. Your metrics are not your worth. Your brand is not your soul.

The real you is waiting, beneath the noise, beyond the numbers. She remembers what freedom tastes like. And she's stronger than you think.

The wild in me recognizes the wild in you,

Chandra

EMBERS & ASHES is a space for the quietly disillusioned – those who have followed all the rules, built the life they were supposed to want, and found themselves asking, "Is this all there is?" If you're carrying questions you can't speak aloud or wrestling with truths that don't fit the narrative, send your letter to contact@chandranicole.com with "EMBERS & ASHES" in the subject line.

For more personal guidance on liberating yourself from gilded cages, explore private mentoring.