I'm so grateful for y'all.
I know I'm not perfect. I know I haven't been the best role model. I'm trying to be better.
When I posted this on Instagram, I was in a vulnerable place. I had made mistakes. I had let people down. I had fallen short of my own standards in ways that were hard to admit.
But I've learned that vulnerability isn't weakness—it's the foundation of genuine connection and real growth.
The Pressure of Public Life
When you build in public, when you share your journey, when you position yourself as someone worth following—there's pressure.
Pressure to always have the answers. Pressure to always be "on." Pressure to present a polished version of yourself. Pressure to never admit weakness.
For a long time, I gave in to this pressure. I curated my image carefully. I shared the wins and hid the losses. I pretended to have it together even when I was falling apart.
It was exhausting. And it was dishonest.
The Cost of Pretending
Pretending to be perfect has real costs:
Isolation: When you never show weakness, people can't truly connect with you. They connect with your persona, not your person.
Imposter syndrome: The gap between who you pretend to be and who you actually are creates constant anxiety. You're always afraid of being "found out."
Stunted growth: When you can't admit mistakes, you can't learn from them. Growth requires honest self-assessment.
Damaged relationships: People can sense inauthenticity. Even if they can't articulate it, they feel the distance that pretending creates.
The Liberation of Honesty
Something shifted when I started being honest about my imperfections.
Not performative vulnerability—the kind where you share a carefully crafted "struggle" that makes you look good. Real vulnerability. The kind that's uncomfortable. The kind that risks judgment.
When I admitted I didn't have all the answers, people started trusting me more, not less.
When I shared my failures, people connected with me more deeply.
When I acknowledged my shortcomings, I created space to actually address them.
What "Trying to Be Better" Actually Means
Saying "I'm trying to be better" is easy. Actually doing it is hard. Here's what it looks like in practice:
Honest self-assessment: Regularly examining my actions, motivations, and impact. Not to beat myself up, but to see clearly.
Seeking feedback: Asking people I trust to tell me where I'm falling short. And actually listening when they do.
Making amends: When I've hurt someone or made a mistake, acknowledging it directly and making it right.
Changing behavior: Identifying patterns that aren't serving me or others, and doing the hard work of changing them.
Patience with the process: Understanding that growth isn't linear. I'll have setbacks. The goal is progress, not perfection.
The Invitation
If you're carrying the weight of pretending to be perfect, I want to offer you permission to put it down.
You don't have to have it all figured out. You don't have to hide your struggles. You don't have to be a flawless role model.
You just have to be honest about where you are and committed to getting better.
That's enough. That's actually more than enough—it's the foundation of everything meaningful.
I'm trying to be better. I hope you'll join me.
