Erica Schneider

(Dims lights, lights candle, takes deep breath.)

Oh hi. My name is PERFORMATIVE VULNERABILITY POST. I'm about to hold up a mirror to your pain, then give you a warm cup of tea and hold space for your vulnerability.

Ready?

Let's begin.

You're feeling TYPE OF WAY about WIDELY RELATABLE STRUGGLE that you've been too afraid to admit out loud.

And that's okay. Really. It is.

(Wafts candle.)

Because RELATABLE STRUGGLE is actually REFRAMED AS POSITIVE TRAIT.

Here's what I want you to know:

You're not alone.
PARAGRAPH BREAK
You're not behind.
PARAGRAPH BREAK
You're exactly where you need to be.
PARAGRAPH BREAK

Now let me share a story about MY MILD INCONVENIENCE that taught me PROFOUND BUSINESS LESSON.

Plot twist: The lesson is just "keep going" but I'm going to take 400 words to tell you that.

Still here? Good.

Because here's the thing no one talks about: THING EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT.

So take a breath. You've got this.

(Makes deep eye contact.)

And if you need support, I encourage you to LOOK WITHIN and SIT WITH WHY.

But not for too long! Because I've created a SUSPICIOUSLY CONVENIENT OFFER that solves exactly this problem.

Is waiting a moment longer something you can afford?

DM me HEALING EMOJI if this resonated.

(End scene)

Last night, I deactivated Instagram. I'm thoroughly exhausted by dopamine scrolling my life away, and Insta seems to get me the worst.

I don't get sucked into LinkedIn the same way. Haven't opened Facebook in years. Forgot about Twitter when it got insane.

But Instagram was genuinely helpful for things like parenting hacks, giggling at stupid dog videos, seeing what true crime documentaries are coming up next month, keeping up with general culture vibes.

Until a few months ago, something shifted.

Was it me? Stuff I started to click on?

Was it the algo? Baiting me into rage?

Is it the general state of the world? Divided and angry and apocolyptic?

Probably all of the above.

I noticed that when I logged on, I'd started to look at my feed with one eye open.

Am I going to see some horrible thing happening in the world that's going to throw me into an anxious doom cycle for the next few hours?

Or am I going to see a lovely parent therapist person giving me a genius strategy for helping my toddlers deal with their big emotions?

The unknowing became too much.

No amount of curation was gonna fix it.

And besides all that, even if it was more funny dog videos than not, I don't want to be chronically online. That's not in my life vision. It never was.

I'm on LinkedIn for business and community. Not doomscrolling and misery. I post, I chat, I leave. Easy enough for me.

So, I'll be here, but not there.

Exciting steps towards reclaiming my time.

If you're not on Instagram or Threads or the other socials, where do YOU get your culture news?

Every solopreneur I know is either:

a) Googling “how to scale without hiring” at 2am

b) Thinking about building an agency and immediately feeling nauseous

c) Working themselves into dust

d) Convinced they’re one more automation tool away from freedom (they’re not)

e) Secretly wondering if their old corporate job was actually that bad

f) Trapped between “I need help” and “I can’t afford to pay anyone what I’d want to be paid”

g) Romanticizing the idea of a team until they remember they’d have to manage people

h) One minor inconvenience away from burning it all down and becoming a barista

i) Thriving but too superstitious to admit it publicly in case the universe notices and corrects the error

There is no in-between.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Which one(s) are you?

Working from home in earshot of my toddlers isn't working for me anymore.

So I'm in my parents' basement today as a test, and it's the most productive I've been in a while.

Am I progressing or regressing?

Do we all just end up back in our parents' basements?!

Next week, I'll probably be asking my mom to bring me pizza rolls during client calls.

"Sorry, can you repeat that? My mom just asked if I want a snack."

Jokes aside, I love my kids, but the context switching is like throwing a grenade on my creativity. I never know when it's gonna go off, either.

Next step: Look into offices to rent.

This is not a pro-office post. F that. It's a pro work anywhere that is not next to toddlers.

Alright it's official. I've moved my office into my parents' basement.

I love my almost 3-year-old chaos monsters so hard, but mommy needs to concentrate. Also, I thought my wife would miss me, but she told me, and I quote, "Stay out, it was so much easier managing the kids without you here."

😅