All of these social platforms are ethically compromised. The bottom line is always the bottom dollar. Your role as a digital consumer and/or creator is to support the space(s) that make the most sense (cents) for you. Everyone’s mindset isn’t the same. That means the flow of money and privilege isn’t the same.
For many years, I used these platforms both as a consumer and a creator. It wasn’t until 2020 that I started using them solely as a creator. I had something to offer that was bigger than myself. I began to gain visibility, but the platforms started offering ways to “optimize.” I quickly realized that this meant suppression.
I wasn’t earning even half of what I could have with the quality of work I deliver. I was using visibility as a funnel into my own site. But I needed to pause, evaluate, and respect what I was nurturing on it, even if my income was inconsistent.
Suppression isn’t always visible. It’s not a ban or a shadow ban that announces itself. It’s an algorithmically deliberate slow fade of reach when your content doesn’t fit into extraction metrics.
I began explicitly naming avoidance as the centerpiece. Clarity that doesn’t fit conventional marketing models. Frameworks that require people to do their own work rather than consume products from “experts” that promise quick fixes. This doesn’t generate the engagement that makes platforms money.
So my visibility got clipped. My followers grew, but my reach contracted. 200,000+ followers on one platform, under 1,000 views per post. Misaligned brand deals. The math didn’t add up because the math wasn’t supposed to add up. The system was working exactly as it’s been trained—keeping clarity suppressed while amplifying agitation. Or, more cleverly, selectively choosing users who perform clarity, yet are able to keep silent about the true source of agitation.
None of this is lost on me. The platforms needed me to silently disappear or succeed loudly on their terms. There was no middle ground for someone offering what I offer.
Over the years, I scattered myself across multiple platforms. Substack for essays. TikTok for short-form. YouTube for long-form. Instagram for aesthetics. Threads for real-time thinking. E-commerce sites for products. Each platform required different energy, different formatting, and different optimization. Each one promised reach. Each one delivered inconsistently.
My email list was scattered, too. Mailchimp charged me $100+ per month for a list that could have been consolidated and managed more efficiently. Over six different containers holding pieces of the same audience.
I was spending time managing platforms that weren’t matching my output with proportionate payouts. I was adapting my work to fit their specifications instead of expressing it clearly. I was hoping their algorithms would do the work for me instead of building direct relationships with the people who actually needed what I was offering.
This was the cost of relying on platforms I don’t have a sustainable safety net with.
Having a personal website is a valuable tip for all creative entrepreneurs. It provides a space where you control the traffic. You set the terms and conditions. You generate and circulate the flow of money and resources. This can be challenging if you’re hooked on the dopamine rush from likes, comments, and views on social platforms. These often don’t translate into dollars and cents if you’re not willing to be policed by strict rules.
So I consolidated. I moved my email list to a platform that gave me more wiggle room. I consolidated my essays into one blog. I connected my products directly to my email system. I stopped waiting for platforms to amplify me and started building a direct relationship with the people who actually engage with my work.
This is not a call to leave social platforms entirely. It’s a call to change their role in our digital existence. They’re no longer my home. They’re a funnel. A tool to route people back to a space where unpredictable metrics aren’t competing with sustainability.
Payhip became that space for me.
Essays live here. Products live here. My email list connects directly here. New customers auto-add to my email when they buy. I don’t have to optimize for an algorithm. I don’t have to wonder if my message will reach the people who need it.
So what changed?
My Time: I’m no longer managing multiple platforms with different posting schedules, formatting requirements, and optimization strategies. I write and post whenever it feels needed. It lives on Payhip. I link to it from wherever people find me.
My Attention: I’m no longer chasing engagement metrics on platforms that prove time and time again they can’t meet what I’m offering in real time. I’m building direct relationships with people who choose (of their own volition) to be here, who buy, and who apply for clarity calls. Where it goes from here, only time and people’s choices will tell.
My Creativity: I’m no longer constraining my work to fit social platform specifications. Content isn’t sanitized for any of the well-known platforms’ algorithms. Clarity is clarity, delivered however it needs to be delivered.
The goal is to use social platforms as long as they’re helpful to you. When they start acting up (as they often do), disengage, migrate, adjust, and keep exploring until something clicks so you can nurture it and express it sustainably. We all need to see each other. Trust that the unseen metrics are guiding you.
I’m nurturing this now. Products that actually resource the work. An email list that connects directly. Clarity calls for people ready to do deeper work. Full access to my journey as a music artist without having to rely on multiple streaming sites. No middleman. No algorithm deciding who gets to see what. No suppression because there’s no system trying to police me.
This took consolidation. It took saying no to platforms that keep playing in my face. It took building infrastructure—I felt, in mutual collaboration with—even when that infrastructure wasn’t glamorous or algorithmically friendly.
But it’s mine. And everything routes back here. Even if you’re experiencing what I offer in fragments elsewhere, the full picture is here (constantly expanding, might I add), and you’ll see it when you’re ready. Don't force it.
Gentle reminder: what works for you may not work for someone else. Payhip works for me. It may be something else for you. But if you’re scattered across platforms, chasing reach, and wondering why your clarity isn’t landing, consolidation might be the next best practical move.
In the meantime and in between time, please be kind and gentle with yourself, as I do the same.
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