I’ve always resented the expectation that I be placed in neat little categorized boxes—hashtag this, hashtag that—and it feels nearly impossible for me to curate my existence into a narrow niche with some kind of projected image in mind. I think I get this from my father, a brilliant fine art abstract wood and stone artist who, for better or worse, has never found commercial success or mainstream acclaim because of his stubborn refusal to market himself or package his work as a product.
The words “content” and “influencer” send a chill down my spine. I’ve historically been unable to use TikTok because I break out into hives at the mere thought of it. Call me Holden Caulfield for this but I hate being told what to do by anyone—but especially by algorithms.
I never thought there would be a place online for somebody like me until I found Perfectly Imperfect, a community of bright, creative, empathetic and open-minded people who also don’t seem to fit into a box and have grown tired of and morally opposed to legacy social media. It feels like what Tumblr felt like ten years ago. I am so happy to be able to express myself fully and share my idiosyncrasies. The minor demon that possesses me has now surpassed 3,000 recommendations in a little less than a year—I have a lot to say.
