You’re not a brand. You’re a person.

This is something I have been thinking about for some time now: we don’t have to optimise our personalities.

A strange thing is going on. We’re living in an age where people introduce themselves with pitch decks. Not literally, maybe, but close enough.

We write bios that sound like LinkedIn press releases. We build “personal brands” with colour schemes and taglines. We choose our words like we’re in a permanent job interview. Even our opinions feel … rehearsed. Put in order to not offend anyone.

Somewhere between “here’s what I actually think” and “here’s how I’ll be perceived,” we stopped being people and started performing ourselves. And if you’ve ever felt exhausted by your own public image – you’re not alone.

We didn’t mean to become brands. We were told it was smart. Strategic. Future-proof. But here’s the truth no one wants to admit: branding yourself is a fast way to lose track of who you are in reality.

Not because it’s dishonest. But because it forces you to be consistent in a world that’s constantly changing. Let me say this clearly:

People change. Opinions evolve. Moods shift. Relationships reframe us. Life happens.

But branding? Branding demands … sameness. (Yes, it is a word.) Your tone. Your content. Your attitude. Your values. All neatly packaged and repeatable. And so one day, you realise: You’re getting better at being “you”. But worse at being yourself.

A client once told me: “My followers love when I post positive content, so I’ve learned to filter out my darker thoughts. No one wants to hear about that stuff anyway.” Well, maybe.

I asked, “And how do you feel about that?” He said, “Honestly? Sometimes I feel fake. Even when I’m being authentic.” And I knew exactly what he meant. As a somewhat public figure myself, I have seen this many times. Stuff that sounds inspiring and happy – full score. Deeper, more problematic topics … not so much.

When the performance is subtle – it’s harder to drop. You forget you’re even performing. Until something breaks.

The real irony? The people who follow you because they like your brand? They’re following a version of you that might not even exist anymore. And the people who know you, really know you, might be quietly watching and wondering, “When did they become their own press release?”

A woman at a conference once said, “I’ve been teaching authenticity for ten years. But lately, I feel like I’m just curating it.” I said nothing. Sometimes silence is agreement.

She continued: “It’s weird. I like the version of me people see online. I just don’t always recognise her.”
I said, “Maybe you’re not doing anything wrong. You’re just ready to show more.” She looked relieved, like someone had given her permission to be a human again.

You’re not a brand. You’re a person.
You’re allowed to grow.
You’re allowed to shift.
You’re allowed to log off, mess up, change your mind, show a different side,
or even just say nothing.

Because people follow stories — not slogans.
And you, my friend, are more than marketable.

See you next Wednesday.
//Thomas