The metrics nobody's talking about (but should be)

I'm here to tell you today that you've been chasing the wrong numbers.

Let's yap about one most not talked about marketing things that you need to be paying attention to when you are creating content: Saves and Shares have becoming way more valuable than passive likes and followers.

 Likes feel good - to your ego.

Follower counts look impressive in a deck. 

But while everyone's been optimizing for applause, a quieter, more powerful behavior has been reshaping how content actually spreads — and most brands are completely missing it.

Here's something the marketing industry has been slow to admit: the playbook that worked in 2016 is failing the brands who are still using it in 2026.

The "create for likes" era had a very specific look. 

Perfectly staged flat lays. 

Motivational quotes in branded fonts. 

Trend-chasing content designed to feel familiar enough to earn a quick double-tap. Content engineered for the moment of the scroll — optimized for stopping the thumb, not for anything that came after.

And for a while, it worked. 

Likes drove reach. 

Reach drove followers. 

Followers meant something.

But the game changed. 

Platforms shifted their algorithms away from follower-based distribution. 

Organic reach for like-bait content collapsed. 

And more importantly — audiences evolved. 

People got savvier, more selective, more fatigued. 

The content that used to feel engaging started feeling like noise.

Here's the cultural shift nobody talks about enough these days: people have largely stopped performing engagement for engagement's sake. 

The era of liking everything in your feed is over. 

And you've gotta stop being sad about people not liking your stuff.

We're all just lurkers now aren't we?

Younger audiences especially don't engage publicly the way they used to — they consume quietly, they share privately (hello, DMs and group chats), and they save intentionally.

So if you're still building posts designed to rack up likes — relying on pretty aesthetics with no depth, jumping on every trending audio, creating content that says nothing in a visually appealing way — you're investing in a currency that's lost its value.

The brands winning right now aren't the ones with the most polished feeds. 

They're the ones creating content that does something — that teaches, that challenges, that makes someone feel understood, that earns a spot in someone's saved folder or gets forwarded to a group chat at 11pm.

The aesthetic still matters. 

The craft still matters. 

But it has to be in service of something real.

You know- kinda like the entire reason we are incarnated here as humans.

To be of service to each other.

People aren't just scrolling to be entertained anymore. They're curating. 

They're building personal libraries out of content that actually means something to them. They're sending posts to friends with a "this is literally us" or "you NEED to read this." 

They're screenshotting recipes, saving outfit inspo, bookmarking business advice to revisit on a Sunday morning with coffee.

Your audience has become an editorial team — and they're deciding what makes the cut.

A like says: I saw this. 

A save says: I want to come back to this. 

A share says: Someone I care about needs to see this.

And from a pure algorithm standpoint? 

Platforms reward both. 

Saves tell Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest that your content has shelf life. 

Shares tell every platform that your content travels. 

Both signals push your posts further, longer, to more people.

So how do you actually implement this?

Well dear reader this is going to require a mindset shift to where strategy meets creativity. 

You've got to move on from the “likes” means this is good content and instead create content with the intention of it going out further.

Liked content is often: visually satisfying, relatable, funny, trending.

Saved and shared content is: useful, surprising, clarifying, or deeply resonant.

Ask yourself before you post: Would I save this? Better yet: Would I send this to someone?

Here are the content types that consistently earn saves and shares:

"Save this for later" content — Tips, tutorials, checklists, how-to guides, resource roundups. If it solves a real problem or teaches something, people will bookmark it.

"This is exactly what I needed to hear" content — Perspective shifts, honest takes, the thing everyone's thinking but no one's saying out loud. Emotional truth travels fast.

"I have to send this to [name]" content — Highly specific, niche content that speaks to a particular person's situation. Counterintuitively, the more specific you get, the more shareable you become — because the right person feels seen, and they know exactly who else needs to see it too.

Aesthetic content worth collecting — Moodboard-worthy visuals, beautiful quotes, aspirational imagery. People build digital identities through what they save, and they'll save what reflects who they are or who they want to be.

One of my secret ways to decompress online isn't dog videos — shocking, I know. It's watching Disney pin traders.

Full disclosure: 

I don't collect pins. 

I am not a Disney adult. 

I'm just an auntie dreaming of the day taking the littles there.

So….

I genuinely cannot explain why this content has me in a chokehold. 

And yet here I am, deep in Instagram reel rabbit holes watching people trade small pieces of enamel like it's the stock exchange.

Here's why I think it works — and why it's a perfect case study for everything I just said.

These creators aren't just making content about pins. They're also sharing tips for navigating the parks, insider knowledge only a passholder would know, and genuine community-building around a very specific shared obsession. 

The pins are the entry point. 

The value is everything surrounding them.

I save those videos for a future Disney trip.

I send them to friends who might be planning a Disney trip. 

I've watched the same park navigation breakdowns multiple times.

That's the magic. 

The creator wasn't trying to go viral. 

They were creating something genuinely useful for a very specific person — and it found me, someone who doesn't even fit the target audience, because the content was worth something.

That's the type of content that I want you building toward. 

Content so good, so specific, so genuinely useful that even people who weren't looking for it end up keeping it.

If you're ready to create content worth saving — hit reply or grab a time on my calendar. 

I'd love to yap with you. 

You're Not a Visionary. You're a Vendor.

I went to opening night of The Devil Wears Prada 2. Because of course I did.

And no — I'm not giving you a single spoiler. Partly because I have manners. Partly because I'm already planning to go see it again.

But there is one line from that film I have not been able to shake. And I pinky swear — seen it or not — it won't give a thing away.

"You're not a visionary. You're a vendor."

The moment I heard it, my brain went straight to us. All of us in this space.

Because some of us are vendors. And some of us are visionaries. And the gap between the two is not closing — if anything, it widens a little more every single day.

Nowhere is that more visible — or more costly — than in your marketing.

A vendor shows up with a plan that works for everyone. They post consistently, follow the trends, use the sounds and templates and hooks that are already performing. They hit the calendar. They check the boxes. They deliver.

And your brand ends up looking exactly like every other brand in your space. Because it does.

Here's the thing about a vendor — they don't need to understand you. They just need to understand the formula. And right now the formula is everywhere. Anyone can buy it, copy it, outsource it. AI can produce it in seconds flat.

A visionary does something different entirely. They start by asking the question nobody else is bothering to ask: what does this brand actually stand for — and does anyone feel that the moment they land on your page?

They're not chasing trends. They're building the thing people point to when they try to explain the trend. They're not filling your content calendar — they're crafting a point of view so sharp that your audience starts to feel like they discovered something. Like they found you before everyone else did.

A visionary makes your audience feel seen. A vendor makes your audience feel marketed to.

People have always been able to tell the difference. They're just a lot less patient with it now.

This is why it matters so much right now. The noise has never been louder. The feed has never been more flooded. AI can churn out vendor-level content around the clock — which means vendor-level marketing has essentially zero barrier to entry anymore.

In that world, the only thing that actually cuts through is a perspective that couldn't have come from anyone else. A brand that feels like a person with something real to say.

That's what a visionary brings. Not just content — conviction.

So the real question isn't who's doing your marketing. It's whether they're showing up with a template or showing up with a belief in where you're going.

Because one fills a feed. The other builds a movement.

If you read that and felt a quiet little gut check — that's your sign.

Let's get on a call and talk about what visionary marketing actually looks like for your brand.

I Meant to Stop at Nordstrom. I Ended Up in Taos.

Some of the best lessons don't arrive in a boardroom or a business podcast. Sometimes they show up on a stretch of highway south of Denver when you've blown past your exit and suddenly realize you have absolutely nowhere to be.

That's exactly where this one found me.

It's been a minute since I've shown up here — personal lives will do that sometimes, won't they?

I won't bore you with the details, but in the weeks I've been MIA I was once again reminded of how you can only connect the dots looking backwards. And how powerful the ancient ritual of the referral truly is.

After all of my eldest daughter tasks were complete, my soul needed some nourishing of its own. If you are an eldest child — specifically a daughter — I know you know exactly what I mean. There's a particular kind of depletion that comes with that role, and a particular kind of responsibility you feel to refill your own cup quietly, without making a fuss.

So I threw a few bits into an overnight bag just in case and took off south. My plan — if you could even call it that — was to stop at Nordstrom for lunch, a coffee, and some excellent customer service. A little retail therapy for the soul.

I however drove past the exit and found myself in Taos.

Here's the thing nobody tells you about spontaneous trips: the logistics get complicated fast.

The place you planned on staying is booked up. And the place that place recommends is booked up. But then the place that place recommended has the exact room that your soul needs.

This is exactly what happened.

Two referrals later from essentially competing BnBs — and the third one was the one I was meant to stay in. The room was perfect. The timing was perfect. The whole thing felt less like a booking and more like an arrival.

And somewhere between unpacking my overnight bag and exhaling for the first time in weeks, I started thinking about what had just happened. Not just the room. The path to the room.

Think about what actually happened in Taos. Three businesses, all essentially competing for the same traveler, the same dollar, the same night. And yet BnB number one didn't hesitate. They couldn't help me, but they knew who could. BnB number two did the same thing. No ego, no scarcity mindset — just here, try her, she's wonderful.

That is the ancient art of the referral. And it is one of the most powerful marketing tools in existence — not because it's clever, but because it's human.

We talk a lot in the business world about marketing strategies, lead generation, conversion funnels, and content calendars. And those things matter. But underneath all of it, the most durable, most effective, most trusted form of marketing has always been one person turning to another and saying you need to talk to her.

No algorithm can replicate that moment. No ad spend in the world buys the trust that comes pre-loaded in a referral. When someone sends you a person they care about, they are putting their own reputation on the line.

That is not a small thing. That is everything.

We live in a world absolutely saturated with content, noise, and options. Every platform is louder than the last. Every inbox is fuller than it was yesterday. Everyone is shouting to be seen, to be chosen, to be remembered.

The referral is a whisper — and somehow, it's the only thing people actually hear.

Think about the last time you made a meaningful purchasing decision — hired someone, booked something, invested in a service. How did you find them? Chances are, someone you trusted said go here or call her or you have to try this. That's not a coincidence. That's the referral doing what it has always done.

The businesses that truly understand this aren't just good at what they do. They are generous with what they know. They play a long game. They understand that sending someone away today often means that person comes back to you tomorrow — or sends you ten people who do.

There is no scarcity in a referral culture. There is only abundance.

What This Means for Your Business

The third BnB didn't run a single ad to find me. I didn’t even look at their social- just found their number on their website and called. When I did peek their social they didn't have a sophisticated content strategy or a perfectly optimized Instagram grid. They just showed up so beautifully for the people before me that the trail led right to their door.

That's the whole lesson. That's the whole thing.

So here's what I want you to sit with after you finish reading this.

Who in your world deserves a referral from you right now? Not a tag, not a vague oh you should check her out — but a real, intentional, hand-on-the-shoulder introduction. The kind where you say I trust this person, and I think you need them. Those referrals change businesses. Sometimes they change lives.

Are you the kind of business that someone feels proud to refer? This is the harder question. Are you showing up so completely, so generously, so memorably that the trail naturally leads to your door? If the answer isn't an immediate yes, that's your work right now. Not a new funnel. Not a new platform. Just showing up more fully in the work you're already doing.

And are you thanking the people who refer you? Seriously. When did you last reach out to someone who sent you a client, a customer, a connection — and genuinely thank them? Not a quick DM. A real thank you. Make it a practice. Make it a ritual.

Because the algorithm changes. The ads get more expensive. The noise gets louder. But the referral? That's been working since before the internet, before social media, before any of this. It worked for two BnBs in Taos on a spontaneous weekend. It'll work for you on a Tuesday.

The third BnB didn't find me. The experience of the first two led me there.

That's it. That's the whole marketing strategy.

Show up fully. Make/Accept a Phone call. Be generous with your referrals. Trust that the right people are always finding their way to you — sometimes they just need two stops first.

Are you building a referral culture in your business — or leaving it to chance? I'd love to hear how referrals have shown up for you. Drop a comment below or send me a message.

2026 Super Bowl Commercials Reveal Our Obsession With Instant Gratification

Who watched the Super Bowl? 

 Don't worry—this isn't another hot take on the halftime show. But can we talk about the commercials for a second? Because I noticed something kind of wild.

As someone who works in digital marketing and social media, if the Packers aren't in the game, then I watch the Super Bowl a little differently- for the ads.

  I'm not just looking at what they're selling—I'm looking at the deeper messaging, the patterns, the cultural moment they're trying to capture. And this year? The pattern was impossible to miss.

 If you paid attention to the commercial breaks, you might have noticed a pattern I couldn't unsee:

AI → GLP-1 → Processed Food → AI → GLP-1 (in pill form) → Processed Food Delivery Service

I can't stop thinking about it.

Look, I get it. We're all busy. We're all tired. And these companies know exactly what buttons to push. That's literally what they pay millions of dollars to figure out.

 From a marketing perspective, it's actually fascinating—they're not selling products, they're selling relief from being human. And they're doing it brilliantly.

 The AI commercials were like "Why think when a computer can do it for you?" Instant creativity, instant answers, instant everything.

 Then came the weight loss drug ads—both the shots and the shiny new pills. "Why deal with all that annoying diet and exercise stuff when you can just... not?"

 And the food commercials? "Why cook when someone can bring processed, pre-made food right to your door in like 20 minutes?"

Individually, fine. Whatever. But all together? It's kind of telling us something.

We're basically being sold the idea that we should outsource everything:

• Don't want to think? → AI's got you

• Don't want to deal with your body? → There's a pill for that

• Don't want to cook? → Here's some food in a box

And honestly? I'm not even mad at it. 

These things exist for a reason. 

Sometimes you need the shortcut. 

Sometimes the shortcut is literally life-saving.

But when did we all collectively decide that doing things the "hard way" is the worst possible option?

As a marketer, I have to respect the strategy. 

They've identified real pain points and they're solving them. 

The fact that the solutions create a dependency loop? 

Well, that's just sustainable business growth, baby. (I say this with equal parts admiration and existential dread.)

That loop? It's the exact same reason so many people's marketing is completely stuck.

Think about it. Someone wants to grow their business on social media, so they:

• Use AI to write all their content → it sounds generic and gets no engagement

• Buy followers or pay for reach to compensate → vanity metrics go up, real connection goes nowhere

• Download another template pack or "done for you" content bundle → still crickets

• Buy a course promising overnight results → course sits unwatched in their inbox

• Repeat

Sound familiar? It's the same loop. 

Outsource the thinking, skip the process, wonder why nothing is working.

The brands in those Super Bowl commercials can pull it off because they have $7 million for a 30-second spot and decades of brand equity to lean on. Your small business or personal brand? You don't have that cushion. You actually have to show up as a human.

Here's the hard truth I tell my clients: there is no shortcut to an audience that actually trusts you- just showing up.

 AI can help you work faster, but it can't build a relationship on your behalf. 

A template can give you structure, but it can't give you a voice. And an algorithm can amplify your content, but only after you've put in the work to make it worth amplifying.

The dependency loop works great if you're selling the solution. It doesn't work so great if you're the one stuck inside it.

Here's what's been bugging me: when you skip the process, you miss the whole point- THE Human experience.

Cooking isn't just about getting food in your face. It's about actually knowing what you're eating, maybe sharing it with people you like, maybe not totally sucking at a basic life skill.

Working out isn't just about fitting into your jeans. It's about feeling strong, pushing yourself, proving you can do hard things.

Being quiet and thinking through a problem yourself? That's how you actually get better at thinking.

The same goes for marketing. Figuring out what to say and how to say it and who you're even talking to? That's not busywork you outsource. That's the whole foundation. Skip it and you're just spinning.

I'm not saying we need to go back to churning butter or whatever. But maybe we've swung a little too far in the "optimize all human experience" direction?

I'm not here to tell anyone what to do. Use AI. Take your meds. Order DoorDash. I do most of these things. 

But working in this industry, I've learned to ask: What story is being sold here? What cultural shift is this riding? And maybe more importantly—what are the second-order effects we're not talking about?

Here's the thing: maybe it's worth making a cup of tea and asking yourself what you're NOT willing to outsource. What do you still want to do yourself, even if it's slower or harder or less convenient?

Because honestly, in a world that's racing toward making everything instant and effortless, choosing to do something the slow way is what people don't even know they want yet and maybe one of the most rebellious things you can do.

And I don't know about you, but there's something kind of appealing and dare I say even sexy about that.

Plus, all that optimizing the human experience is  terrible for conversion rates, which as a marketer, I find oddly refreshing.

And if you were wondering or care my top commercials were:

1. Pepsi v. Coke The Choice because if the beef is back between them maybe this means the world is healing and CGI > AI IMO.

2. Budweiser American Icons Between Free Bird, the change in the sound of his hooves when the horse grows up, to the wings and jump, this gave me goosebumps and choked me up. Absolutely beautiful.

3. Goodwill Dunkin purely for the nostalgia vibes.

Most Businesses Don't Need More Content. They Need Fewer Channels.

Let me guess what your content calendar looks like right now:

• Instagram feed posts

• Instagram Stories

• Instagram Reels

• TikTok

• LinkedIn posts

• LinkedIn articles

• LinkedIn newsletters

• Facebook (because "our audience is still there")

• YouTube

• YouTube Shorts

• Twitter/X (maybe?)

• Threads (remember Threads?)

• Pinterest

• Email newsletter

• Blog posts

• Podcast (that you haven't recorded in three months)

Oh, and you're supposed to be "repurposing" all of this across platforms while also being "authentic" and "showing up consistently."

No wonder you're exhausted.

I'm exhausted for you and....

You’ve been sold a lie.

When I first meet with a new social strategic client the platform talk comes up almost immediatly. I ask how many platforms they are on and then I follow up with what platforms do you actually like to scroll and be on?

Because here’s the truth your businesses doesn’t need more and better content. You need fewer channels.

Somewhere along the way, we collectively decided that being everywhere = being successful.

That if you're not on every platform, optimizing every algorithm, posting at the "right" times across all channels, you're leaving money on the table.

That more visibility automatically equals more revenue.

And on that I call BS.

Because here's what actually happens when you try to be everywhere:

• You're mediocre everywhere instead of excellent somewhere.

• Your messaging gets diluted across platforms.

• You resent the work instead of enjoying it.

• You're reactive instead of strategic.

• You burn out trying to keep up.

• Your audience gets confused about where to actually find you.

You're not building a business. You're building a content hamster wheel.

When I tell people to pick two platforms and do them well they are almost always shocked.

I know a business owner who only uses email and Instagram for marketing.

That's it.

No TikTok. No LinkedIn. No YouTube. No Pinterest. No podcast. No blog.

Just email and Instagram.

And she's running a six-figure business.

Why? Because she's really good at those two channels. She knows them inside and out. She enjoys showing up there. Her audience knows exactly where to find her. Because that's only where she is.

She's not spreading herself thin trying to game seven different algorithms. She's going deep instead of wide.

She trained people to find her where she's at not where they're at.

I might be the only one who will every tell you this but...

You do not have to be on every platform.

You only have to be on the ones that make sense.

And the ones you enjoy.

Because if you are not only your business's CEO but also as the head of marketing you have to enjoy tapping onto the social platforms.

You do not have to have a TikTok just because "that's where the attention is."

You do not have to force yourself to do Reels if you hate making Reels.

You do not have to write LinkedIn think-pieces if LinkedIn makes you want to throw your laptop out the window.

You do not have to have a podcast, a YouTube channel, AND a blog.

You can pick 1-3 channels and be done.

Revolutionary, I know.

And I already know your next question...

So how do you actually decide what platforms to be on?

Stop asking "Where is my audience?" and start asking better questions:

1. Where do I actually enjoy showing up?

If you dread opening the app, that's your sign. Life is too short to force yourself to create short form on TikTok if it makes you feel dead inside. And eventually people- they will be able to tell you dread opening an app.

2. Where do my people actually want to hear from me?

Not where the gurus say they should be. Where do your people actually hang out and engage? This is a great time to check your platforms analytics because the people are actually telling you if they are engaging/seeing your content or not. You don't have to guess the numbers already exist.

3. What format plays to my strengths?

Are you a writer? Maybe email and LinkedIn. Are you visual? Maybe Instagram and Pinterest. Do you love talking? Maybe a podcast, Youtube and Instagram Stories.

4. What can I sustain long-term?

Not in a motivated season. Not when you hire help. Right now, today, with your current capacity—what can you actually maintain without burning out?

You know what Happens When You Go All-In On Fewer Channels?

Magic. That's what happens.

When you stop trying to be everywhere and commit to being excellent somewhere, here's what shifts:

Your content gets better because you're not spreading yourself thin.

Your audience grows faster because you're consistent and present.

You actually enjoy the work because you're not forcing formats that drain you.

Your messaging gets clearer because you're not trying to translate it across 47 platforms speak.

You have time to actually run your business instead of just creating content about your business.

You build real relationships instead of just chasing vanity metrics.

But then eventually the FOMO and Guilt will set in…

You'll email me "But what if I'm missing out on customers on TikTok?"

Maybe you are.

And that's ok.

Because you're also missing out on customers who only shop in person if you're online only. And customers who only find businesses through word-of-mouth. And customers in countries you don't ship to.

You cannot be everything to everyone.

And trying to be is what's killing your creativity, your energy, and honestly, your results.

Here it is the secret sauce strategy:

Pick 1-3 channels maximum. (Email is a non-negiotable channel)

Go deep.

Get really, really good at them.

Build an email list (yes, you still need this—it's the only channel you actually own and a must in the Maven way of doing marketing).

Show up consistently.

That's it.

That's the strategy.

It's not sexy. It's not complicated. It won't make a good LinkedIn carousel.

But it works.

So here's your homework:

Step 1: Look at all the platforms you're currently trying to maintain.

Step 2: Ask yourself honestly: "Which of these am I only doing because I think I'm supposed to?"

Step 3: Delete those apps from your phone.

Step 4: Pick the 1-3 channels where you actually want to show up.

Step 5: Go all-in on those.

No guilt. No FOMO. No "but everyone says I should be on X platform."

Just you, your people, and the channels that actually light you up.

That's it. That's the secret sauce.

Message me when you're ready to get started- my inbox is open 24/7 365.

The Casual Scroll is on Hospice and My Mental Health Knows It

What a week. What a month. What a—honestly, I’ve lost track of time because my office is also the news feed and the vibes are absolutely rancid.

I’ll be honest with you: my mental health isn’t doing the greatest right now.

And I have a sneaking suspicion I’m not alone in this.

Because The “You Must Post About This” Era Has ReEntered The Chat

My client inboxes and feed are starting to feel very 2020 again. You know the energy:

“Silence isn’t an option...” “You have to speak up...” “Why haven’t you said something...” “It’s been X days and you haven’t posted about X” “You can no longer not be political in business”

Ooof. Triggering, even.

And look—I get it. The world is heavy right now. Things are happening that matter deeply. But somewhere along the way, we collectively decided that social media wasn’t where we kept up with friends/family and is instead where we perform our values, prove our awareness, and demonstrate our worthiness as humans and business owners. And market our stuff.

And I’m here to remind us all: this is what’s burning us out.

This month also has shined a light on the days of the casual scroll are now officially on hospice.

Who wants to casually scroll when- lately I open an app to “just check real quick,” here’s what I get in 30 seconds flat:

• Thirst trap

• “Sensitive content” warning

• An ad

• A hot take

• Nail tapping product affiliate link

• Dog video (the only good thing)

• More “sensitive content”

• Another ad

• Someone I’m not following’s unhinged rant

• A carousel telling me I’m doing everything wrong

Blergh.

And we don’t think this is causing some brain damage and pushing people off social?

Spoiler alert: My brain hurts, We all have brain damage AND people are leaving social.

Friends our brains were simply not designed for this level of context-switching, doom-scrolling, rage-baiting, algorithm-manipulated chaos. We’re all walking around with fractured attention spans and cortisol levels that would make our ancestors weep.

So Here’s a Human-to-Human Social Media Follower Reminder I Feel You Might Also Need:

No civilian human owes me their thoughts on social media.

I can unfollow and unsubscribe from anyone at anytime.

No business owes me a post unless it’s about their business.

No human owes me an immediate hot take two seconds after some worldwide event happens.

Humans are allowed to change their minds when new information is presented to them.

I do not control my friends, family, or followers’ stances, feelings, or when/if they post about X thing.

The only control I have is how I choose to react. (that one i say to myself alot lately)

Now onto our cortisol and nervous system- for 10 minutes or an entire weekend:

• Take a break from social

• Remove social apps from your phone

• Go for a walk without your phone (Scandelous)

• Open the window and get some fresh air

• Bake something

• Pet an animal

• Paint

• Call a friend (an actual phone call)

• Email your elected officials

All of this anxiety needs somewhere else to go besides essential strangers’ inboxes or comment section.

Because another spoiler: We’re all living through this together. You AND Me. Wow.

It’s heavy. Our nervous systems are maxed out. The world feels like it’s spinning faster than we can process.

And your soul? Your soul is never going to be here again. You are never going to have this day again.

This exact moment. This exact version of you. This exact life you’re living—it only happens once. And what are we doing- doom scrolling and arguing with people we’ll never meet or buy from on social.

Here lies the casual scroll Oct. 6, 2010 - Jan. 26, 2026

Not that you asked for it but here’s yet another piece of advice to myself (as someone also barely holding it together)

It’s OK to Stay in your lane.

Not in an apathetic way. Not in a “I don’t care about anything” way.

But in a “I’m going to protect my energy so I can actually show up for the things and people that matter most” to me way.

In a “I’m going to be thoughtful instead of reactive” way.

In a “I’m going to log off and live my actual life” way.

In a “My calling and mission is different” way.

So goodbye casual scroll. We’re killing iit with our hot takes, constant need for content, our performative activism, our algorithmic manipulation, and our collective inability to just... be quiet sometimes.

And honestly?

Maybe that’s not the worst thing.

Maybe it’s time we find better ways to connect, to care, to show up, to be intentional.

Maybe it’s time we stop outsourcing our humanity to platforms that were literally designed to keep us anxious and engaged.

I have faith in you.

I have faith in us.

Even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Even when your mental health is taking a beating.

Even when the news feed feels inescapable.

You’re allowed to step back. You’re allowed to not post. You’re allowed to not have all the answers. You’re allowed to protect your peace. You’re allowed to be human.

And that stuff matters more than any post ever could.

The 2016 Nostalgia Trend: What We Lost When the Algorithm Took Over

Has your feed been inundated with throwback posts from 2016 as well?

2016—the glory days of social media, the days before the algorithm and the advertisers took over.

But instead of nostalgia, what I'm getting from all of these throwbacks is just how uncurated, fun, and carefree we used to be.

2016 Wasn't Just "10 Years Ago"

It was before the algorithm took over.

It was when your feed was chronological. When you posted a blurry photo from brunch without thinking twice about lighting or composition, threw a Valencia filter on it and got 15 likes that made you feel like you knew what you were doing. When captions were genuine thoughts instead of carefully crafted copy optimized for engagement.

That was 2016.

And these throwbacks are showing us exactly what we've lost and that…the homogenization of social media is real.

What stops me most about scrolling through these 2016 posts isn't just the nostalgia—it's the contrast. Back then, everyone's feed looked different- I could tell who was who.

Now?

We're obsessed with the right skincare routine, traveling to the same places to strike the same poses, wearing the same viral outfits, chasing the same post aesthetic for our feeds.

We've learned what "performs well," and in doing so, we've traded our 1/1 of uniqueness for a formulaic existence.

The algorithm didn't just change how we see content. It changed how we create it.

you’ve heard me saying this for a while but I believe the best brands and creators are the ones brave enough to break the mold.

The ones who remember that connection—real, messy, human connection—will always outperform perfection.

If this nostalgia wave is teaching us anything, it's that people are craving humanness again. They're tired of the same. They're ready for something real.

The question is: are you ready to give it to them?

Let's bring back some of that 2016 energy—the uncurated, the spontaneous, the unapologetically human. I promise that your audience will thank you for it.

Here's to being brave enough to be different.

Social Media Has Plateaued (And What Comes Next)

I've been going back and forth for months with this idea that social doesn't really matter anymore. But that just isn't true.

Social does still matter.

And it just looks different in how to use it effectively.

Over the summer of 2025 I paused personally posting. Maven was at a crossroad and I didn't truly know what my offer was anymore.

I was also so annoyed at feeling like I needed to perform for strangers to feel “successful”.

So I took a break.

My clients, my inner circle and my family knew what was happening and on May 7th I made my final post until September. 

I wanted to see if it helped me figure out the thing that I felt was laying just below the surface level and balancing right above my soul level.

And honestly it felt good. It felt like my life belonged to me again and not to all of you and a world of strangers.

It felt special big and yet small because it finally felt like mine.

I took less photos and just enjoyed moments. I realized the photos that I was stopping to take were because the object looked pretty to me or was a candid moment with someone I wanted to capture and eventually print. 

Because I dont know how many photos I have on my phone that have been taken for “content purposes”.

It was beautiful.

It felt SO good to keep my phone in my bag or coat pocket, not constantly reaching for it and pulling myself out of the moment for something just to upload to my stories and brag about where I was, or what I was doing.

And then a little over a month into all of that I got a call that I needed to get back to WI. That one of the people who raised me was fighting for their life and suddenly that was all that mattered. 

It didn't matter what my camera roll looked like or if my feed was updated every day to pacify an alogrithm and to keep you entertained when you were looking to disassociate.

All that mattered was could I make it in time to say every thing that I needed to say?

I did.

And then it hit me that on peoples death beds they are not thinking about their camera roll, feed or if their outfit was fire.

They are going back through their life to moments that meant something, moments where they wished they said the thing, or where they wished they would've kept in touch with so and so.

They want to go back to the physical places where their soul felt happy, free and alive.

They could give two shits about what the strangers they are following are doing.

So with their borrowed time that's how I spent the remainder of summer. Driving them to those places, searching to see if those people were still earthside and how to contact them.

Tying up loose ends.

And eventually to an extent realizing social does matter, but it doesn't matter like it did in 2018 or 2019. 

Instead in 2026 it matters in a people way.

It matters in a community way. 

Shifting is the performing for lead generating.

Here now is an opportunity to share and attract a community of humans experiencing a similar thing and not feeling alone.

Because more and more people are coming to the conculsion of the grip that our devices have on earthly experience and that life is worth living.

And not through a phone.

Therefore social is changing.

And that's the gnawing truth that has been with me since I stopped personally posting in May.

Social isn't the future of marketing.

Social has plateaued.

The future of marketing is going back to it's foundation- of being relational.

You can churn out all of the ai written content that you want to but by this time in 2027 people are going to see right through it and you.

Because offline people are searching, seeking and longing to feel a par of a community. A community of inside joke, stories, gathering and life.

And it's translating differently online.

After summer I got back and went to an ai training and a prompt was needed for the training so I asked it “What is the future of social media marketing?”

It asked me 3 follow up questions but then answered with “In 5 years social media marketing will not look how it does now. A shift is happening toward platforms instead where you own you customers."

My hands went to my face and I squealed and felt validated. 

Because I have been feeling and talking about this for 4 years. 

Performative social is NOT the future for many reasons but number 1 being it is not sustainable for the human.

Our brain isn't equipped to constantly be churning out and consuming content.

Since the concept of the sourdough starter connecting us all in 2020 hit me in 2022 this where I have mentally been marinading.

And it's time to bring the sourdough starter into the future- I'm done helping businesses perform for strangers. Instead I'm here to help you build digital communities that matter with the people already in and subscribed to you. 

So- If you're ready for that conversation, reply to this email.

And aren't you excited to be on this journey with me? 

When "Apology Letters" Become Humblebrag Disasters: Why This Trend Is Backfire Waiting to Happen

One trend that I truly hope stays in 2025 is the  "apology letter" format that brands are using—where products humorously "apologize" for being too popular— because it represents a fundamental misunderstanding of both apologies and effective brand communication.

If you’ve been anywhere scrolling on Instagram the past 3 months you’ve seen them, if you haven’t it’s a post on company letterhead that looks like something posted after someone did something to get themselves canceled but it’s instead just a humble brag about how awesome they are at what they do.

I get it we all want to stop someone’s scroll and what is more scroll stopping than a piece of content that appears to be hot gossip?

But this trend is actually damaging because it mistakes smugness for charm.

What these brands think they're doing is creating self-aware, humorous content that celebrates their success while acknowledging minor customer inconveniences. What they're actually doing is wrapping a humblebrag in the language of accountability, which undermines both.

Real apologies acknowledge harm and accept responsibility. This format co-opts that language to essentially say "we're so amazing that we've created problems for you—aren't we great?" It's the corporate equivalent of someone complaining about how exhausted they are from their luxury vacation.

It trivializes actual customer service failures. When customers have legitimate complaints—poor quality control, unresponsive service, actual problems—this jokey format suggests the brand doesn't take feedback seriously. You're training your audience that "apologies" from your company are really just marketing exercises.

It alienates people who aren't already fans. If someone doesn't already love your product, this reads as insufferable. "Grandma is off the wagon again" might get a chuckle from devoted customers, but to everyone else it's just a brand being weirdly self-congratulatory about... beer.

It's the opposite of humility. True humor about your success requires actual humility. This format has the structure of humility (an apology) but the substance of arrogance (we're too good). People can sense that mismatch, and it breeds distrust.

It’s also breeding a PR disaster because what happens when you actually need to publicly apologize on social for something serious?

When something does happen that needs a public statement- because let’s be honest it will, you’ve already used that language for marketing so your online credibility is shot. It’s giving the brand who cried “viral social campaign” can’t cry “product recall” effectively.

You're creating exhaustion. Every brand doing cute, quirky, "we're so relatable" content creates fatigue. When your "apology" is obviously not an apology, you're contributing to the cynicism people already feel about social media communication.

If you want to celebrate your popularity, just do it directly. "We can't keep this on shelves—thank you!" is honest, grateful, and actually endearing. If you want to be funny, be funny without appropriating the language of accountability. If you actually have supply issues causing customer frustration, address them seriously and outline what you're doing to fix them.

The brands succeeding long-term aren't the ones with the cleverest format hijacking. They're the ones building genuine relationships through consistent quality, transparent communication, and knowing when to be sincere versus when to be playful.

REI closes on Black Friday and encourages people to go outside instead—prioritizing their customers' wellbeing and shared values over short-term profit. Trader Joe's employees will open any product for you to taste before buying—reducing your risk and showing they trust their quality. Costco has maintained the same price on their hot dog combo since 1985, even at a loss—demonstrating respect for customers over maximum revenue extraction.

None of these require clever copywriting or viral potential. They're just businesses making choices that put customer value first, then letting those choices speak for themselves.

The "apology letter" trend will fade because it's built on a foundation of self-centeredness that becomes more obvious with each iteration. And as more brands pile on, the joke becomes "look how many brands think this is clever" rather than "look how clever this particular brand is." 

And in an era where people are increasingly savvy about marketing tactics, that's a losing strategy.

Instead the brands that build genuine loyalty don't do it through clever formats or viral moments. They do it through consistent, humble service to their customers' actual needs.

But the deeper issue won't fade: the disconnect between what brands think customers want (entertainment, personality, clever content) and what customers actually want (reliability, honesty, respect, value).

The brands that will thrive long-term are those that resist the temptation to perform and instead focus on serving. Not because service is more fun or creative—it's often boring and unglamorous—but because it's what actually builds trust and loyalty.

When your customer can't find your product on the shelf, they don't need a cute apology letter about how popular you are. They need you to fix your distribution, communicate clearly about availability, or suggest where else they might find it. That's connection. That's respect. That's what lasts.

The irony is that by trying so hard to seem relatable and human, these brands reveal how disconnected they are from what their customers actually need. Real connection doesn't announce itself. It doesn't need clever formats or viral potential. It just shows up, day after day, putting the customer first—even when no one's watching, even when it's not content-worthy, even when there's nothing clever to say about it.

That's the difference between brands that become beloved institutions and brands that become cautionary tales about marketing trends that age like milk.

When 'I'll fix it later' Costs You The Crown Jewels

Quick question: What do the Louvre and your 2023 "I'll update this later" marketing plan have in common?

Both involve things we meant to get back to.

So here's a story to make you feel better about whatever's sitting in your drafts folder...

The Louvre—yes, that Louvre, home to the Mona Lisa and priceless treasures—just had crown jewels stolen. And their IT password?

Louvre- allegedly

I imagine some IT tech during a frantic software update thinking, "I'll just set this quick and come back to change it tomorrow." Then tomorrow became next week. Next week became next month. And well... you know how the story ends.

Crown jewels: stolen.
Headlines: everywhere.
IT department: not having a good time.

But here's the thing—we ALL do this.

Maybe not with museum-level security, but with our digital marketing? Oh, we absolutely do.

Your version of "Louvre" might be:

• That "Coming Soon!" placeholder page from 2023

• The broken link in your email signature nobody's clicked in months

• Google Business hours that still say "Closed for COVID precautions"

• The About page bio mentioning an award from 2019

• Social bios with dead links to that webinar you ran once

• That one form that sends inquiries into the void

Here's what we know about temporary solutions: They become permanent problems when we're not looking.

We all get distracted!

The difference is, when the Louvre gets robbed, it makes international news. When your potential client lands on outdated info? They just... leave quietly. 

No headlines. No second chances.

So this weekend, set aside some time to do your own "password audit":

Take 30 minutes and look for your digital "I'll fix it later" moments. The placeholder copy. The outdated links. The thing that's fine but not right.

Because unlike pulling off a museum heist, fixing these things doesn't require Ocean's Eleven-level planning. Just a little focused attention and the self-awareness to admit: "Yeah, I've been meaning to update that."

Enjoy this throwback photo to me at the Art Institute.