CHAPTER FOUR

“Embracing Social Media on My Terms: Finding Confidence in the Age of Filters and Comparison”

Social media is, quite frankly, the very last place I ever expected to find myself building a business. If you had asked me years ago—even before everything—I would’ve said “no thanks.” I didn’t want to share my life. I didn’t want to curate anything. And I certainly didn’t want to perform.

But when everything in my world felt like it was crumbling—my career, my confidence, my identity—I found myself in a strange new place: painfully aware of how everyone else seemed to be thriving. Instagram became a minefield of perfect faces, glowing skin, success stories, vacation pics, and shiny new businesses. And for the first time in my life, something I never knew lived in me began to rise: jealousy.

Not because I wished anyone harm. Not because I wasn’t happy for them. But because I no longer recognized me.

Anxiety doesn’t just knock—it barges in. Depression follows closely behind. I was emotionally paralyzed, drowning in disgust with my aging face, new unexplained deformities & shame leaving me feeling unrecognizable. On top of everything else, my self-worth diminished to a level so low I never imagined.

And here was this endless scroll of success, beauty, filtered fabulousness—and I couldn’t relate to any of it. It hurt. Badly. Not because of them, but because I was grieving me. My old face. My old energy. My old spark. I hated mirrors, so the thought of seeing myself on-camera? Unbearable.

Yet somehow, I knew if I wanted to build this business—EDIT ACCORDINGLY, this vision that had finally felt like mine—I’d have to find a way to show up. Not as a fake version of myself. But as someone who still had something to say. Someone who could style the hell out of a look, who could bring someone else confidence, even if I was still rebuilding my own.

I found a way. A quiet way. An EDIT-ed way.

I discovered tools that allowed me to gently filter what I needed to, just enough to post something without spiraling. I focused on the aesthetic I loved, the one I’d always had a gift for. I studied grids. I leaned into visual storytelling. I treated Instagram like a canvas—not a confessional.

I never set out to be an influencer, and I still don’t want to be one. But I do want to influence women in a different way: to find themselves again. To use style as a lifeline. To know that it’s okay if you’re not ready to show your face. It’s okay to filter. It’s okay to protect yourself. Just don’t disappear.

Because slowly—post by post—I started to see ‘her’ again. ME, #UNIQUELYME. Not the “before” version, or even a fully healed one, but the woman in the process. The woman in progress. And that woman? She’s figuring it out. She’s building something beautiful. She is building something on her own terms.