I Didn’t Disappear. I Just Got Quiet Enough to Hear Myself Again.

Jun 17, 2025

For a while now, I’ve been showing up live on TikTok almost every day. Two hours. Sometimes more. Giving energy, holding space, building something—community, connection, memory.

But recently, I’ve paused. Not because I don’t love the work. Not because I’ve run out of things to say. But because I’m tired.
Tired of yelling into a void.
Tired of creating in a system that pretends it doesn’t see me.
Tired of being expected to perform joy, wisdom, and presence for a platform that won’t even send my followers a notification that I’m live.

This isn’t just burnout. This is something deeper.

The Algorithm Isn’t Neutral

People keep asking:
“Why aren’t you live anymore?”
“Did I miss something?”
“Are you okay?”

Here’s what I want to say back:
Yes, I’m okay. But no, the system isn’t.

When I go live, people don’t get notified. My regulars don’t show up—not because they don’t care, but because the platform is doing what it does best: erasing. Quietly. Repeatedly.

Shadowbanning. Censorship. Call it what you want.
What I feel is invisibility.

And it’s hard to keep offering your full self when you’re being treated like a glitch.

This Isn’t a Goodbye

Let me be clear: I’m not vanishing from social media.
I’m not disappearing.

But I am repositioning.

You’ll still see me—in short form videos, in audio drops, in the words I write here.
But I’m no longer pouring two and a half hours of energy into a livestream that gets capped at 100 views, if that.
I’m no longer fighting for visibility in a space that acts like my presence is optional.

I’m showing up differently now. With more intention. Less desperation.

Archiving Is Still Showing Up

I didn’t stop creating. I just stopped performing.
There’s a difference.

Archiving is still resistance.
Memory work is still a form of presence.
Every time I write a story, speak a truth, or document a moment—I am still here.

But I’m doing it at my pace.
In my time.
Without needing to feed the machine that keeps pretending I’m not worth surfacing.

Some Things Are Just for Me

Let’s talk about privacy, too.
Because in this age of always on, the assumption is: if you’re not posting it, it didn’t happen.
If it’s not content, it’s not real.

That’s a lie.

I’ve been keeping parts of myself sacred.
I’ve been archiving moments without uploading them.
There are memories I’ve held in my voice notes, journals, and folders—not for virality, not for validation, but because they matter to me.

Not everything belongs to the timeline.
Some things belong to the future. Some to the past.
Some are only mine.

A Final Word

So no, I haven’t disappeared.
I’ve just grown tired of begging for space in rooms I built.
I’ve grown weary of chasing visibility in a system that doesn’t know how to value nuance, slowness, or truth

I’m still here.
Still documenting.
Still remembering.

You just might have to look a little deeper to find me now.
And maybe that’s the point.