i'm not an aesthetic, i'm just a mess 🫠

embracing authenticity in a world of personal brands and curated feeds

tl;dr: struggling with self-promotion in the age of personal branding isn't just about imposter syndrome—it's about the terrifying vulnerability of being truly seen.

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hey mi gente! 👋🏽

have you ever stared at your social media feed, finger hovering over the 'post' button, and felt a wave of nausea wash over you? no? just me? cool, cool, cool. 😅

here's the thing: i've been trying to figure out how to "market myself" (ew, even typing that makes me cringe) for this substack, and let me tell you, it's been about as smooth as trying to salsa dance in crocs. on ice. while juggling flaming cacti. 🌵🔥

the struggle is real, y'all. and it's not just about the mechanics of self-promotion. it's about the deep, existential dread that comes with putting yourself out there. it's about the fear of being seen—really seen—and the even greater fear of being misunderstood.

the paradox of visibility

there's this wild paradox at the heart of all this: i desperately want to be seen and understood, but the thought of actually being fully visible terrifies me more than the time i accidentally liked my ex's new partner's instagram post from 2015. (pro tip: don't scroll while sleep-deprived, folks.)

it's like, i want you to see me, but also, please don't look too closely? i want to share my thoughts, but what if they're not profound enough? what if i'm not smart enough, funny enough, [insert whatever imposter syndrome is whispering in your ear today]?

this isn't just imposter syndrome talking. it's the very real fear of vulnerability in a world where everything feels like it needs to be perfectly curated, filtered, and hashtagged.

the curated life™ vs. the messy reality

scrolling through instagram, you'd think everyone's life is a perfectly arranged flat lay of succulents, lattes with foam art, and color-coordinated bookshelves. meanwhile, my life looks more like a jackson pollock painting—if jackson pollock had used dirty laundry, half-empty coffee mugs, and random scraps of paper with song lyrics scribbled on them as his medium.

i'm not an aesthetic. i'm just a mess. a lovable mess, sure, but still a mess.

and you know what? i'm starting to think that's okay. more than okay, actually. it might just be one of my superpowers.

the authenticity paradox

here's where it gets really twisty: in a world obsessed with "authenticity," being truly authentic feels more scary than ever. because true authenticity isn't pretty. it's not curated. it's messy and complicated and sometimes contradictory.

true authenticity is admitting that you cried watching the last episode of "schitt's creek" for the fifteenth time. it's sharing that sometimes you feel like you're barely holding it together. it's being honest about your struggles, your fears, your doubts.

but it's also about joy. unfiltered, unscripted joy. the kind that makes you ugly-laugh or dance like no one's watching (even though, let's face it, in the age of tiktok, someone's probably always watching).

the fear of misunderstanding

and then there's this: what if i put myself out there, truly and authentically, and people still don't get me? what if they misunderstand my intentions, my words, my heart?

it's happened before. i've shared something deeply personal, only to have it twisted or misinterpreted. and let me tell you, that hurts more than stepping on a lego in the middle of the night. (and if you've never experienced that particular form of torture, consider yourself blessed.)

but here's what i'm learning: misunderstanding is part of the human experience. it's not a failure on my part if someone doesn't fully grasp what i'm trying to say. it's an invitation to clarify, to dig deeper, to keep the conversation going.

embracing the mess

so where does this leave us? how do we navigate self-promotion and visibility in a world that seems to demand perfection?

i think it starts with embracing the mess. with saying, "hey, this is me. all of me. the good, the bad, the ugly-crying-while-eating-ice-cream-straight-from-the-container parts."

it's about recognizing that your voice, your story, your unique perspective is valuable precisely because it's yours. no one else can tell your story the way you can.

and maybe, just maybe, by embracing our own mess, we give others permission to do the same.

the power of vulnerability

there's a quote by the incredible audre lorde that i keep coming back to:

"when we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. but when we are silent, we are still afraid. so it is better to speak."

y'all, speaking—truly speaking—is terrifying. but silence? silence is suffocating.

so here i am, speaking. sharing. putting myself out there in all my messy, complicated, sometimes-contradictory glory.

your turn

i want to hear from you. how do you navigate self-promotion and visibility? what scares you about being seen? what excites you?

let's create a space where we can all be a little messy, a little vulnerable, and a whole lot authentic.

because at the end of the day, we're all just trying to figure this out. and maybe, just maybe, we can figure it out together.

hasta la próxima, mis amores! 💖✊🏽

edgard🌈

p.s. if you see me awkwardly promoting this substack on social media, just know that behind every post is a small existential crisis and a lot of self-pep talks. your likes and shares are basically therapy. 😂

p.p.s. seriously though, if this resonated with you, consider sharing it with someone who might need to hear it. let's spread the gospel of embracing our messy, authentic selves!