I’ve been an Instagram user since the beginning, 2010. And since then, I have had a love-hate relationship. I’ve permanently deleted my profile to start all over months later. I have temporarily disabled and changed my name a dozen times. I’ve been obsessed, and I have also despised it.
In March 2018, I started an Instagram account, @BlackWifeLife, as a hobby. I was newly engaged and looking for wedding & marriage inspiration. All I kept seeing were these overly curated images. I didn’t find the real down-to-earth photos that I could relate to. And when I did find them, they weren’t nearly as celebrated. So I decided to change that.
My growth catapulted what seemed like overnight (it was about 3–4 months), and my profile began to grow by the thousands every single week. But the catch is, I was not using any of my images. I was merely reposting other people’s content but writing heartfelt captions about what I saw in the picture, regardless of who was the owner.
I didn’t even reveal who was behind this curated page until I hit 10K followers. Not sure if this was a good or bad thing. But once I did, my new found Insta community wanted to see and know a little more about me. And once I told my friends, I didn’t let them know until I hit like 40K followers; they encouraged me to take this idea and run as fast as I could with it.
So I did.
But I ran in the wrong direction.
I thought because I ran a rapidly growing Instagram account, for it to sustain, I had to become an influencer. I had to open up my life and take fancy pictures and tell fabulous stories about my own BlackWifeLife®, yes I trademarked it *wink*.
But that is not why @BlackWifeLife grew. It did not succeed because of my images. It grew because of my dedication to sharing beautiful photos that haven’t been seen by the masses. It grew because of my creative and quote-worthy captions.
I tried to put myself in a box that I didn’t even belong in.
I began to resent the things that I loved, like take pictures of myself or film candid videos of my husband and me. I started looking at those things as content versus personal memories. I ran in the wrong direction.
And because I was focusing on this, I let my amazing idea slip. When I was focused on my brand, I grew 800–1000 followers per week; I dropped to 100–300 per week. My goal of hitting 100K followers by the end of 2020 did not happen. Currently, I am at 97,077, and that is because I refocused and reset.
I like Instagram. I love being able to see what my friends are up to or inform everyone at once. But I have to love it MY way, and not the way I thought I was supposed to love it. Just because I have a widely popular account doesn’t mean that I have to be in front of the camera 24/7 telling people everything about myself.
I need to be focused and remember how and why I got started.
I got started to share beautiful Black love and uplift Black women. I got started to highlight Black creators by showcasing their writing and creativity on TheBlackWifeLife.com, another project that bloomed from my Instagram’s growth and popularity. I got started to be something different, to create my lane and not fall into the same lane like everyone else.
When you see everyone doing the same thing, it’s almost guaranteed that you will want to follow, but why not change the game and do something different. Step outside the box, be unique and remember why you started.
Merriam-Webster defines an influencer as someone who exerts influence. A person who inspires or guides the actions of others. A person who can generate interest in something by posting about it on social media.
I am doing precisely that via @BlackWifeLife, but the difference is that social media has turned the word influencer into one straight highway with several lanes versus a highway with off-ramps, lane changes, and state routes.
Bottom line: I lost focus, trying to be the face of something that I was already recognized for.
