I built something visible. But not everything about me was meant to be exposed. This is about contraction, protection, and learning how to stay aligned while being seen.
I have a complicated relationship with being public online.
On one hand, social media built my world. It has given me opportunities that my little self has always dreamed about, It built Mishpacha. It filled rooms. It created opportunities I never would have had otherwise. I cannot pretend it hasn’t been powerful.
On the other hand, being public comes at a cost.
Before I started Mishpacha, no one in this community really knew who I was. I was never the girl in the center of big crowds. I kept to my circle. I might have gone to a community event a few times a year at most. I may have felt lost in my career and unsure of what I wanted to do with my life, but I was not watched. I was not judged. I was not discussed in rooms I was not in.
There was a kind of anonymity in that. A kind of freedom.
I guess the grass is always greener on the other side.
And I hate to sound privileged saying this, but being an influencer is harder than it looks. Not because I have to set up a camera or make relatable videos. That part is manageable. The harder part is realizing I’ve built a version of myself that thousands of people have seen.
It is strange to be visible and still unknown.
I remember being at a basketball game once when someone said, “I saw your new video. It was so funny.” I brushed it off and said something like, “It gets the attention.” Their response was, “What do you mean? That’s not naturally you.” Then someone else chimed in, “No, of course not. She has to be all cracked up like that.”
Hearing someone acknowledge that the online energy isn’t fully me felt oddly refreshing. But it also unsettled me.
Because it made me realize how blurry the line can become. How easily a character forms. How quickly people decide which parts are real and which parts are performance.
And maybe the scariest part is when you even start to wonder where that line actually is.
At the end of the day, as public as I may be, there is still so much I do not show. Thankfully, I exist within a niche where my content stays mostly within Judaism and nightlife. That boundary protects me more than people probably realize.
I am grateful for that.
Because as much as I have built something visible, it is not all of me. It is a part. A curated part. A purposeful part. But it is not my entirety.
And maybe remembering that is what keeps me grounded.
There is a Kabbalistic idea that light does not disappear when it is hidden. It is simply concealed. I find comfort in that. Not everything about a person needs to be revealed to be real. Some parts are meant to stay protected. Maybe the character I have created is not a lack of authenticity, but an act of preservation. It's a way of protection.
I am someone who feels deeply. Sometimes too deeply. I can let the smallest things linger with me longer than they should. But I am learning that Hashem is holding me through all of it. That not everything requires my control. That no matter how exposed I may feel, I am still divinely protected.
Because as much as this journey has opened doors to beautiful opportunities, it has also opened the door to criticism, assumptions, and negativity. And yet, I am still here. Still creating. Still building. Still doing what I genuinely love, which is bringing people together.
And for that, I am deeply grateful and thankful for.
As much as I do to let the noise and the pressure get to me, all it takes is seeing someone smile, laugh, sing, dance, or hug in a room I created to remind me why I started. And in those moments, I know I am not going anywhere anytime soon.