I spent the last few weeks slightly terrified of my phone. Week one I had a video on Tik Tok reach 1.5 million people. The following week a video reached 2.6 million people. In the grand scheme of the internet these numbers are small, I know, but in my life these were huge. Overwhelming. Every morning I woke up, every time I refreshed my notifications in the bathroom at work, I braced myself for thousands of notifications. Messages, comments, followers flooded in. It’s strange to think that millions of people have seen me, heard my voice, that they’re forming opinions of me.
But of all the things that I observed during my time in the sun, perhaps what has surprised me the most is the amount of people who have told me that I look like Shelley Duvall. I’ve gotten that comparison exactly once in real life and even that was half hearted, “hey you kind of look like Shelley Duvall.” Online it’s urgent that people let me know. I love Shelley Duvall, I think she was beautiful, cool, I find the comparison flattering. But it was still the most uncomfortable part of it all. It’s weird to think that people are seeing my face, registering it, and telling me what they think of it. Feeling the need to let me know.
I post on Tik Tok so people will read my writing. Without Tik Tok, my Substack was growing at a snail’s pace. With Tik Tok, I can get a thousand subscribers in a week if the topic hits the right spot. I never set out to be a “content creator” or an “influencer,” but needs must. The world has changed, and I know that I have to play the game to get people to pay attention, to break through somehow. Reading isn’t exactly red hot at the moment, numbers are dwindling, legacy media is dying a slow and drawn out death. I knew I had to try to find an angle.
And I’m glad I did. I enjoy making my videos, I enjoy talking to interesting people, it’s opening a lot of doors.
But I can’t help but think that it’s a strange reality, to be a creative in this world you increasingly need to have a public facing persona. You need to make content and tie your face and voice to your work. To cut through a heavily saturated internet, painters have to stand in front of a camera and slowly reveal their paintings, writers have to film videos explaining their essays, musicians have to make thirst traps to their songs, designers have to make day in the life vlogs. Maybe you don’t have to, maybe you could try the old fashioned way, but does the old fashioned way exist anymore?
The role of a creative has become intertwined with content creation. Social media serves as a way to reach the masses, to set yourself apart, which is what artists need to do. I don’t think it’s inherently bad that this is the way things have gone. A lot of people who may not have been able to break through are now able to, maybe myself included. But as always it’s a double edged sword. Being a content creator takes a lot of energy and it also means you need to be prepared to deal with comments, people seeing you, forming opinions on you and not just your work. Tying your physical self, your image, to whatever you create is inherently tricky.
It’s not exactly new, I think we can all admit that the likes of Joan Didion or Hunter S Thompson were well assisted by their public persona. The most successful writers and creatives since the camera was invented have benefited from a curated image. I also don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world. Seeing a face makes you build trust with a person. It’s understandable that people want to know the type of person behind the work they’re seeing. I think sometimes it’s ok to judge a book by its cover, if the author picked a terrible cover it does tells us something about them, their vision.
But I worry that social media is tipping us a little too far. I think the image of a person used to be a byproduct of their work, a supporting material. But now it’s feeling more like the main thing. The work is a byproduct of the persona. I do wonder if tying the physical self to art incentivizes the wrong things. It places success largely in the hands of people who are willing to talk on camera, who can withstand people commenting on their looks, who can endure the stress of the weird and snarky commenters. I think we can all admit that the people who are succeeding in the creative fields increasingly fit into a narrower set of beauty standards than musicians, actors, artists of the past did. If you have to stand next to your painting in order for people to see it, what do you have to look like? If you have to fend off opinionated and angry people in your comments, how confident and self assured do you have to be?
Because sometimes it does feel a little like I’m forcing myself to walk into a hall of mirrors every week. I think its ultimately made me stronger, more resilient, more self assured and confident in my sense of self. Having a constant stream of people perceiving me has somehow made me clearer on who I am in contrast. I genuinely do like making my videos and engaging with thoughtful people who find my writing through them. But I will admit sometimes I don’t have the energy for the downsides. I have to brace myself for the errant comment from someone who is willfully misunderstanding, dismissive, or condescending.
This certainly isn’t for the faint of heart, but a lot of artists and creatives are faint of heart. What if we never get to see their work because they can’t crack the internet?
Thank you for articulating something that’s been rattling around in my mind for weeks. Current culture does place weird demands on creatives, namely that their face must appear on everything, or that they themselves are a brand. The number 1 rule of YouTube thumbnails is always prioritise a face pic. Being a writer who’s chronically offline feels like the reserve of Sally Rooney alone.
I wonder what kinds of creatives we’ll get that will move to the surface and whether we deserve the watered-down culture we’ll end up with as a result. Artists are inherently sensitive so asking them to be born on-camera performers and able to tolerate critiques on things that aren’t remotely related to their art - like personal appearance and delivery - feels like an unfair and unworkable brief.
I think this is very true for our current moment, but real, meaningful, lasting literature and art will always have its own set of standards. For example, we have no idea what the author of the Bible looks like but it’s still the most influential book.
I personally read a lot of literature, new and old, and I usually don’t know what the author looks like or anything about them until I Google afterwards. They’re never really as otherworldly as their work, and that’s ok with me.
Though yeah, it’s probably incredibly difficult in 2026 for great artists and writers to get discovered without constantly promoting themselves. Kind of a shame, but also a consequence of the chaos that is democratization of the arts.