Why I’m Building My Website Instead of staying on Instagram only
At the start of this year, I made a small promise to myself: to show up more. More posts, more of my face, more of what I do creatively.
This was a big shift. I’ve never been the kind of person who felt comfortable sharing much of myself online. For a long time, I believed that putting yourself out there—especially visually—was a bit too much. Too self-centered, maybe. But somewhere along the way, I started to see it differently.
It wasn’t about ego. It was about expression.
Back to S(e)oul
Reframing self-portraits and self-expression
I started to lean into photography more seriously, especially self-portraits. Not because I was suddenly full of confidence, but because it was what I could do. I wasn’t ready to approach strangers or take portraits of other people, but I could start with myself. It felt more like creating than performing.
And I still love photographing flowers, small details, and scenery—those quiet, beautiful things. But I realized I wanted more. I didn’t want to only share photos. I wanted to talk about how I think. About music I love. About journaling, painting, or even personal finance.
Instagram, as much as I enjoy it, started to feel like it had too many rules. Stick to one niche. Post only what performs well. Be consistent, but not too repetitive. I know this thinking—I’ve worked in e-commerce and digital strategy. I get the logic behind “niching down.” But honestly? I don’t know what my niche is yet. I’m still figuring it out.
Limitless
Instagram wasn’t built for all of me
The more I shared, the more I felt like I was outgrowing the platform. It’s not that I don’t enjoy using it—I really do. I love the visual creativity and quick connection. But it was starting to feel like a box. Like I was trimming parts of myself to fit into something smaller.
I’d look at stats, reach, engagement… and wonder, “Was this worth posting?” And when I mentioned this to a friend, she reminded me: that mindset is made up. We don’t have to play by those invisible rules.
Still, I needed a space that felt like mine. Not an app. Not an algorithm. Just a space.
Building a space that holds all the pieces
That’s when I started thinking seriously about a website. Not just a portfolio or a gallery for my photos—but something more complete. A space for writing, for sharing blog posts like this one, or where I could maybe, eventually, sell my prints.
It felt like a home for all the things I’ve been scared to share. A way to collect what I’ve made, what I’ve learned, and what I might create next.
Imposter syndrome definitely tried to stop me—especially when it came to the idea of selling prints. But that fear is exactly why I need the space.
To practice showing up.
To practice trusting that what I make has value, even when it’s not perfect.
A softer kind of creative freedom
This blog and website aren’t meant to replace Instagram. I still want to post there, especially to connect and share glimpses of my life. But I want the website to be something quieter. More reflective. Less about performance, more about presence.
It’s where I can write about solo travel and personal finance. Where I can share a gallery of flowers and a post about a day that felt a bit off. Where I can try things, change my mind, and maybe even help someone else along the way.
This is the kind of space I wish I had seen when I was first figuring all of this out. So, I’m building it.
For myself, first.
And if anyone else finds it helpful, inspiring, or comforting—then that’s a beautiful bonus.
Just so you know: I originally recorded myself talking about this topic and then used ChatGPT to help shape the transcription into something structured for this post. I’ve edited and reviewed everything myself—so what you’re reading is still fully me, just with a little help organizing my thoughts.