Section 1.1: My Journey of Self-Deception

In my twenties, I achieved a semblance of success by being someone I wasn't, and it took a toll on my spirit. Over time, the mask I wore became burdensome, reducing me to a hollow version of my true self.

You might wonder how I came to this realization. Well, I owned a bar with my ex-husband during that period, and instead of being acknowledged as a competent business owner who handled the finances, I was merely seen as a pretty face—a marketing ploy.

As a new blogger, I often find myself sifting through various blogging advice, which often emphasizes the need to create a social media persona for success. This brings to mind a particular video by Kristina Kuzmic, who humorously critiques those who portray an unrealistic perfect life online.

But this message is directed at those who feel compelled to project a flawless existence on social media.

I didn't present a facade on social media, as it wasn't as prevalent back then. Instead, I masked my reality in everyday life, stepping into the role of the attractive face of our bar.

I spent hundreds on my appearance—manicures, hairstyles, and outfits. My image was plastered on promotional materials, sometimes in revealing attire. I even adopted a gimmick of bartending in a bikini on busy nights to attract more patrons.

Initially, the attention felt exhilarating; I enjoyed being liked and the influx of customers. However, that admiration soon turned dark. I experienced unsettling moments, like when a patron tore off my top or made degrading comments.

People entered the bar oblivious to my contributions as both the financial backer and the brains behind the operation. They didn’t see me managing the books, filing taxes, or engaging with local authorities. My intelligence went unnoticed.

I had become a mere facade.

Despite appearing successful with a thriving business and regular events drawing crowds, I felt hollow and despondent. My marriage crumbled, and I loathed the person I had become—more concerned with my public image than my reality. I despised being reduced to a mere object rather than a human being.

Success, I learned, came at a steep cost.

Ultimately, it was a price too high for me to bear. I sold the bar, took a low-level admin job, and ended my marriage.

Now, in my thirties, I am embarking on a new journey as a blogger, striving to build a business from a place of authenticity. I read countless blogging tips and sometimes find myself cringing.

Should I churn out listicles filled with recycled advice? Should I post photos of mundane tasks like painting my nails on Instagram? Perhaps that would make me more "successful."

Yet, this time, I choose to cultivate a brand rooted in authenticity. I engage openly about mental health and challenge the notion of perfection with other mothers. Should I achieve "success" again, it will be through genuine representation.

From my previous venture, I've learned that being true to myself and surrounding myself with those who appreciate me for who I am is worth more than any monetary gain.

To those chasing quick riches, I urge you to reflect: Are you prepared to compromise your true self? The only way to achieve swift wealth is by sacrificing your authenticity.

I invite your thoughts in the comments: Would you prefer wealth or happiness? A life of imperfect reality or a fabricated perfection?

In this insightful video, Kristina Kuzmic hilariously critiques the façade that many individuals maintain on social media, highlighting the importance of authenticity.