Katie writes a blog!

I’m 28, grew up in the age of social media, and have a bachelor’s degree in journalism. I created my Facebook account when I was 12, spent hours perfecting my MySpace profile from the family computer in the corner of a dark living room, and posted almost daily as an early adopter of Instagram. At one point, I even had an account on Google+. 

But throughout college and the time since, my relationship with content has been a series of fits and starts. I spent four years learning to write and share stories at a professional level, all while gradually burning out and coming to realize it might not be for me. Even so, I pursued a content marketing job straight out of school that continued to burn me out even more, often feeling like I was putting so much energy into something that would just get lost in the void. What was even the point? 

But through all that, my experience was never consistently negative. Producing content, whether as part of a professional publication or a personal endeavor, definitely has its highs. Clicking publish on a story or sending out a newsletter… earning a positive comment on a social post… reaching 1000 followers on TikTok… it has been all these little moments of dopamine that keep me coming back. 

Since leaving my full-time marketing job, I’ve tried a few different times to make it on my own in the world of content. I figured, maybe if I was just doing it for myself instead of someone else, that might be the key to it feeling right.

For a while I ran an Instagram highlighting different businesses or things to do in my community. This was sometimes satisfying if the subject appreciated the post, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was preying on other people’s real success to create my own clout. I also hated the pressure of turning every outing into content, instead of just enjoying the day. I did this maybe six months before deactivating the page. 

Then I ventured into film photography, something I still do on occasion. But turning it into a successful social account felt more like a chore, and pushed me to keep taking and developing photos on film (both quite expensive!) that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise. It took away from the whimsy and art of film photography and made it feel like I always needed to be producing something that others might like. And ultimately, with less than 200 followers and a series of photos featuring an incoherent mix of Midwest suburbia plus a couple rare trips out west, that account really wasn’t going anywhere, anyway. 

Most recently, I’ve been learning linocut printmaking while documenting my art process with videos posted on Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok. I’ve even made a few Etsy sales. This has been the most fun content to create so far, but even so, I can’t seem to get away from the larger dissonance I feel toward social media.

Scrolling through these platforms is all at once chaotic, addicting, satisfying, and upsetting. There’s an unfathomable amount of content already out there, and more uploaded every day. And if we’re being honest, I think many of us would prefer a world without any of it.

So then we’re back at the question, what’s the point? 

Yes, art content is less devious than some. It can be inspirational or educational, and I am supportive of the many artists who showcase their work. I am among them. But when I scroll through my own art-heavy “For You” page and experience the exhaustion of an endless stream of videos that are largely all the same, it’s hard to feel like there’s a purpose in adding to that noise. 

I’m not saying it’s all bad. If it was, I would have quit a long time ago, but as of now I’m still sporadically posting. Yet my energy toward even these creative accounts is starting to dwindle, forcing me to question yet again whether I can ever find any kind of content creation to be truly fulfilling.

As someone who basically has a degree in content, and what feels like few other unique skills, that’s a scary prospect. I’ve been documenting things for as long as I can remember—there has to be something there. Yet every time I try to consistently create in a way that’s meant to be seen by others, I eventually fall into an existential crisis about the meaning of it all. 

So, this blog is my experiment. What does it look like for me to create and document life in the long-lost way of not being primarily for pleasing others or chasing clout? To let myself ramble, be long-winded, and be genuine. Maybe no one will ever read this, and that’s okay—kind of the point, even. Does anyone even read blogs in 2025? But if you are here, and if you do follow along, you can expect this page to be a little bit of everything. A hodge podge of real life, a messy collection of thoughts. Not perfectly edited, limited by one niche, or wrapped up in a snappy 30-second video, because that’s not what life is.

And I’m tired of pretending that is what it should be.