Do I want to be really hot or do I want to tell a good story?

Gaining 50K followers in the past year taught me what it takes to grow online.

It’s already 10 pm, and my day feels the same as each one that came before it. A relentless routine of hoping I would make something, only to not do it. “So many other things get in the way!” I repeat to myself, easily passing blame onto a litany of external circumstances.

“My email MUST be the reason for my lack of creativity.”
“I’m running a marketing agency!”
“I have clients to help.”
“I don’t have time.”

I turn off the lamp on my nightstand and roll over with my phone in hand, a blue glow cast across my face, mindlessly scrolling all the apps I spend my days stalking.

The specific flavor of my algorithm is my number one interest – women doing things. I love any memoir or movie featuring a strong female lead, and my social media feeds follow suit.

One evening in 2015, I went to the movies with my brother. I’m 16; he’s about 12, and we are buddies. I have my license now, so on weekends we get to venture out together. It was a wintry night, and we chose to see The Intern in theaters. I’m not sure how we found ourselves here. (I’m sure I dragged him along.)

I was immediately entranced by Anne Hathaway on screen. The way she waltzed into clothing factories and rode her bike through her office. Everything from the brownstones to the trench coats resonated deeply. At 16, I wondered why I was crying at a rom-com-style chick flick with no real consequence. I was shaking in the cushy seating. I remember running out of the theater, repeating: “This is what I want to do. I want to build and make things.”

still looking for my Ben

I’ve watched this movie countless times since. The easiest way to inspire me is with the example of a woman – real or fictional – making things. In my day-to-day life, I surround myself with the Anne Hathaway archetype. Most of my friends, connections and coworkers are cut from a similar cloth – hardworking, creative and full of vision.

Suddenly, in the midst of my nightly app-checking wind-down routine, I noticed that scrolling past all these successful women was making me angry. My alarm bells started ringing.

Cradling my head at 10 pm, watching morning routines, outfit-of-the-day posts, PR hauls, and wonderfully executed content, I felt the heat of jealousy crawl through my body. “I could do something like that,” I mutter to myself, bookmarking each post, shamelessly collecting a museum of other people’s stuff.

The next morning, I wake up, get dressed, and go to work. As the founder of a marketing agency, I make a living helping other people build their businesses. I sit on the phone for hours, telling each person peering back at me how to grow online with great clarity. Meanwhile, I’m afraid to face down the bear of my own desire. A little voice inside of me wants to be heard. It whispers: “I want to do the same.”

Fear often manifests itself as procrastination. I was afraid of being misunderstood as vain, self-obsessed, or “living for the gram.” I didn’t want to realize the gap between what I wanted to make and what I was skilled enough to do.

On the receiving end, the internet looks casual and easy. It looks so simple to throw together a video, post consistent stories, and speak on camera. But anyone who wants to make content knows how unforgiving this medium is. At first glance, you might think those out there in the Instagram arena are just overly confident, maybe even a bit prideful. In reality, if you want to be quickly humbled, I recommend becoming a content creator.

Last fall, I had a serious conversation with myself, and I realized that if I actually wanted to grow online, I had two choices:

1. I could be insanely hot (not really the path for me)

2. I could learn to tell a good story

Following trends or copying what others do might be a good way to warm up your muscles. But to grow authentically, you must realize this is an art form. I finally started to feel free when I realized that the internet is my artistic medium of choice, and this work requires what art demands – effort, iteration, and the relentless release of the most honest work that you can muster today.

In the past year, I’ve gained over 50,000 followers and quadrupled my following, doubling my income through brand partnerships — not by being hot, but by telling stories and using my voice authentically.

These are the things I’ve learned and the reminders that I continually reference: