Click To Read Why I Don't Share My Stance On Every World Event 🙅🏻‍♀️

On boundaries, backlash, and the myth that influencers owe you everything 😑

I want to talk about something I don’t think creators share enough: what it’s really like to live your life online when millions of people are watching. On the surface, it looks like recipe videos, link sharing, product recommendations and lifestyle content. But behind the scenes? There’s pressure. Pressure to always say the “right” thing. Pressure to have an opinion on every world event. Pressure to keep everyone happy.

And I’ll be honest—it’s a lot 😵.

This post is about what that pressure feels like, why I’ve had to draw boundaries, and what you can expect from me. My hope is that by being transparent, I can let you into the real side of being a content creator—and also give you a reminder that it’s okay to protect your peace in your own life, too. Your mental well-being comes before everything. Literally everything.

Staying Grounded in a World That Wants You to Speak on Everything

One of the questions I wrestle with daily as a food and lifestyle creator is: what is my role on the internet?

I’ve been sharing recipes, wellness tips, and bits of my life for over 10 years now, and somehow this little corner of the internet grew into a community of over four million people across my platforms (like WHAT?!?!). It’s an honor. It’s also…a lot. Because the bigger your platform gets, the more people expect from you—sometimes things you never signed up to deliver.

The Pressure to Have a Public Stance on Everything

When major world events happen, my DMs blow up. People ask: Where do you stand? Why haven’t you spoken? Why are you posting a cookie recipe right now when the world is on fire? Even threats: If you don’t tell me right now what your stance is on X, I am unfollowing you!

I understand where it comes from. People want to know the values of the people they follow. But the reality is—I’m not a journalist, politician, or activist. I’m a food creator. My gift is in making healthy meals accessible and creating a space online that feels like a soft landing in a chaotic world.

That doesn’t mean I don’t care deeply about what’s happening. Of course I do. But there’s a difference between caring privately and being expected to comment publicly. And part of staying grounded as a creator and protecting my mental health is knowing where that line is for me. In this social media world, you are damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

Boundaries Are Not Indifference

It took me a long time to understand this: having boundaries online does not make me careless or cold.

There is a myth that if you have a platform (especially a large one!), you owe people your opinion about everything. But here’s the truth—when I share something, I want it to come from a place of thoughtfulness, not pressure. If I speak up about something, it’s because I’ve processed it, I have something constructive to add, and it aligns with the heart of what this community is about.

And sometimes, the most responsible thing I can do is stay quiet. Not because I don’t care, but because amplifying half-formed thoughts to millions of people isn’t responsible.

The Reality of Negative Comments

Even when I stick to sharing food and lifestyle, the negativity still comes. People critique my body, my parenting, my eyebrows (which I LOVE), my nails, even the way I slice a cucumber. And on a bad day, it stings. On a really bad day, it can make me want to log off altogether and live a more private life.

But here’s the truth: negative comments are a reflection of where someone else is at, not a reflection of my worth. That perspective didn’t come overnight—it’s something I’ve had to practice and revisit constantly, with my weekly therapy sessions and surrounding myself with the right group of friends.

My grounding practice here is reminding myself: I create for the people who are here for the joy, the food, the community—not the critics who come to pick me apart.

What You Can Expect From Me

If you’re here—a member of my Kale Junkie community, you can expect delicious, carefully tested recipes, honest reflections on life, day to day living, my kids, and most importantly, a commitment to showing up authentically. You can expect me to share what I love and what I’ve learned. You can expect me to be human.

What you can’t expect is for me to have a public stance on every world event. You can’t expect me to get it right all the time. And you can’t expect me to sacrifice my mental health for the sake of proving I care.

I hope that what I do share here is enough—that it nourishes you in some way, whether through food, comfort, or the reminder that behind every post is a real person just trying to live well, support her kids, and do her best.

Why I’m Writing This

I’m writing this because I think we need more honesty around what it’s like to be an influencer at scale. Fame on the internet looks glamorous from the outside, but the inside is more complex. It requires constant discernment about what to share and what to hold close.

My hope is that this post gives you a window into that complexity, and maybe even offers you a permission slip too: to have boundaries, to protect your peace, and to stay grounded no matter what role you play in your own community 🥳.

A Note to My Community

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. The fact that you’re here, reading and engaging, means the world to me.

This Substack is one of the few places I can write freely—without the noise of algorithms, trending sounds, or the demand to perform. If you want to keep this space going, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Paid subscriptions let me keep showing up honestly and sustainably, and they unlock deeper essays and reflections that I don’t share anywhere else.

Whether you’re here for the recipes, the reflections, or just to connect in a more human way—I’m grateful for you. ❤️