Chaotic Content Creation
In September, I wanted to do a full month of vlogs—one vlog a day. The idea was just to get back into creating content regularly. I’ve found that I work best, feel the most creative, and improve at making content when I set myself a simple consistency rule. For over a year, that was posting one post on Instagram a day. I would also post more than once a day on TikTok. That was when the platforms were growing exponentially during Covid. It was the time when I grew the most on social media—over 100k in a year on Instagram and 300k on TikTok.
I often think back to that time. I keep telling myself, “All I have to do to get back into that rhythm is just do it again.” But I don’t. Why? Maybe I don’t want it as much anymore. Maybe I’m a bit tired. Thinking about how much energy and focus it takes, I know I wouldn’t have the space to explore other things, like building a business that actually makes good money. I’m an adult now. My parents paid my rent when I was a student, but after studying for five years post-high school, they expect me to make my own way financially. Of course, they’d help me if I really needed it or had a specific project in mind, but I like being independent and earning my own money. The real question is: what balance can I find for myself that I’ll still enjoy long-term?
It’s September, the perfect time to rethink my content creation and revisit the strategies that worked for me before. One key was setting a consistent schedule; the second was having a stock of content ready. I can’t be perfect every day. There are days when I’m just not in the mood at all. Forcing myself to create on those days doesn’t work well for me—I can tell when I’m not giving it my all. Sure, it’s good practice to push through sometimes, but you can only do that for so long. The worst part is setting a regular posting goal without thinking about when it will end. I would just ignore the fact that one day, I’ll want to stop or take a break. It feels so much better when I know it’s going to be intense but for a limited time. That really helps me push through. Otherwise, I lose the sense of why I’m doing it along the way, and it’s harder to gauge if the routine was successful or not. This time, I want to set a specific time frame so that at the end, I can evaluate the results and make adjustments.
Having a stock of content helps, but it’s not everything. It keeps me consistent on busy days, but some of my content can’t really be planned ahead. The closer my content is to my actual daily life, the better it is—especially with vlogs. If I’m vlogging every day and posting at the end of the day, I can’t just fake an extra day for the times when I don’t feel like filming. Also, when I’m putting all my energy into one format, I can’t juggle too many different things at once, like filming a YouTube video. Imagine trying to film your day vertically for Instagram, then doing the same thing again in horizontal format for YouTube. You end up with no personal time at all, and in my case, I’d be thinking only about my content, unable to fully enjoy or connect with what’s happening around me.
Another challenge with vlogging is figuring out how to create content that balances what I’m comfortable sharing and what I want to keep private. It’s not just about people who might not want to appear in my videos or things I prefer not to share; there are also professional projects I can’t talk about. In modeling, for example, it’s tricky to mention castings for brands or campaigns that haven’t been released yet. There are sometimes NDAs or other details I’m not allowed to share, which makes daily content tricky. That’s when having more pre-prepared content really comes in handy.
At this point, it’s clear that finding a balance between pre-recorded content and more spontaneous, daily content is key. Now, I’m trying to figure out which video formats I want to focus on and what themes make the most sense for me.
I’ve experimented with so many things. I started out posting modeling photos on Instagram and gymnastics content on TikTok. After committing to posting every day, I added lifestyle pics and selfies on Instagram and joined in on trends on TikTok. Once I built a community and signed with Influx, we reviewed my strategy to make my content more professional, helping brands identify with me and adding more value for my followers. That’s when I started incorporating healthy recipes, workout sessions, and personal development. But after a while, I felt like I was doing too many different things. The people who liked my workout content didn’t care about my lifestyle posts. The ones who enjoyed my personal development stuff didn’t understand how the modeling fit in. And on top of that, keeping up with all the different formats was exhausting. I started by turning the recipes into occasional stories instead of full Instagram Reels. I stopped the personal development reels when I felt like I was repeating myself and began to doubt if I had the authority to talk about those things. No matter how humble I tried to be, I’d look back at that content and feel like it wasn’t as true as I thought it was at the time. It just felt off. I was embarrassed by it. That’s when I realized the best way to share my lifestyle and habits was simply to show what I do every day. So, I started vlogging, thinking it was the perfect solution. It combined everything—my life as a model, a student, cooking healthy meals, working out, and sharing personal development insights.
It was great, but by itself, it wasn’t as stockable as workout sessions. But if I start doing more workout content, I risk being labeled a fitness influencer, which isn’t ideal for working with fashion brands. I don’t have an amazing wardrobe to share either, and I never really developed a fashion format. It’s this cycle of things I could do, things I don’t see myself doing, and feeling stuck in between. I know I could technically do almost anything—I’ve proven that to myself. But the truth is, I’m still not sure what I truly want to do or how to translate that into content I enjoy creating.
If you add my desire to take acting classes to see how I can transition from modeling to acting, and my few clients as a freelancer, you start to get an idea of how overwhelmed I feel by the life I’ve chosen—and somewhat appreciate. I just don’t know what to do about it at this point. Writing, knowing I’ll publish it, pushes me to seek order and understand myself by trying to explain where I’m coming from to you. It’s the therapy I need.
I actually started content creation out of this “need” dynamic. Back in Germany, I felt isolated working in Bochum during my apprenticeship. On one side, I overused dating apps, which led me to quit them altogether. On the other side, I started creating content, which gave me a sense of human connection I desperately needed—albeit virtually. It was a healthier or at least more productive way to spend my time. During those two years, I held onto a dream: becoming famous on Instagram. I started believing it was possible because photographers, who had seen similar models succeed, told me their stories and convinced me I was just a few steps away. Tee Jott Models was a great coach. He was the one who told me not to be afraid to post a lot of shirtless content at first. That strategy worked well for a model, although at some point, I realized it wasn’t building the community I’d hoped for. The more helpful and universal advice he gave me was: “post every day.” His theory was that you can always be creative enough to post daily. The constraint triggers creativity. Need to post something today? Figure it out. What can you do? Repost a set of pictures from last month, but in black and white this time for variety. Don’t like how they look? Try cropping them! Still not satisfied? Take a selfie and share what’s happening with you right now! There’s never a valid excuse not to be creative enough.
The funny thing is, I learned to live with that rhythm. I craved attention. I craved engagement. I needed to feel loved. It didn’t matter if it was virtual because all of this was a remedy for my loneliness. Content creation was my remedy.
But what happens when you’re healed? What happens when you don’t need the medicine anymore? I kept going because I enjoyed it, but I didn’t feel the same need for it anymore. I kept going because it had become a habit, a job, and part of my identity. I continue today because it gives me other things that I’m not ready to lose.
Over the last few months, I’ve been searching for myself. My time management has shifted. My life circumstances have changed. My job has changed.
My content creation as a “lifestyle guy” has always more or less reflected my life. But when life changes so much, it’s hard to find a new balance. On one hand, I’m trying to figure out how I can translate my current life into the content I create. On the other hand, I’m asking myself what I truly want to share and how I feel comfortable sharing it.
Right now, I feel more comfortable writing. Once I knew I wanted to share, and that sharing was my therapy, the next question was: how do I want to share? There are many ways to share through content. Sometimes I’m in the mood for a TikTok. Sometimes I just want to post a few words on Threads. Sometimes a selection of pictures from my week feels more in line with how I’m feeling on Instagram. Today, it’s writing an article that only a few people will read but with whom I might have a deeper connection. My new therapy isn’t doing shirtless TikToks; it’s writing. When content creation becomes therapy for me, that’s when the need drives the action. Without that need, I don’t act.
In other words, maybe the only healthy question I should be asking myself is: what do I really need right now, and how can creating content help me share something meaningful about myself?
