When Visibility Becomes a Trauma Response
What my inner wisdom taught me about people pleasing and the fear of being forgotten
Do you ever feel pressure to always be online, creating, sharing, and making sure you’re visible? And not always because you want to, but because it feels like you have to. The algorithm is designed to keep us online and conditioned to feel like we always need to be doing more.
Maybe you’re like me and you tell yourself this is what you need to do if you want your business to grow, to attract new clients, subscribers, and followers. It’s pretty common these days to believe we have to be sharing all the time in order to be seen, for the algorithm to notice us and promote our work.
I believed that if I was not consistently posting, the algorithm would forget me. And if the algorithm forgot me, maybe subscribers and followers would too. That fear ran deeper than I realized, or care to admit.
Lately, my higher self has been guiding me away from too much screen time, particularly social media. My nervous system is not on board with the constant stimulation, and I have been trying to honour that. At the same time, those familiar thoughts creep in. The ones that say I should be posting more. I should be writing and sharing more. I should be doing more.
Yes…there I was again, “shoulding” on myself just when I thought I was past that.
Guilt
I have been listening to my nervous system and spending less time on social media. But that does not mean I’m disappearing completely. I still show up (and always will) to read the work of my favourite writers, and share my words, but I have intentionally limited the time I spend mindlessly scrolling.
And it has felt really good.
But that relief opened the door to something else. I began to notice a feeling I could not quite explain or understand at first. It was subtle. A feeling of discomfort that was lingering in the background. And on a recent walk, the answer became clear.
It was guilt. And with that answer, another question came.
When the answer first dropped in, it did not make sense to me. Guilt felt like the wrong word. But as I kept walking and reflecting, it started to click, especially when the next question arose.
What if the guilt for feeling that I “should” have more of an online presence by writing more and sharing my words isn’t about a lack of discipline, commitment, or service at all? What if it was just another form of people pleasing?
People Pleasing
I used to have a high level of people pleasing behaviour. Most of it came from programming, conditioning, and the trauma I experienced. I have done a lot of inner work around this and truly believed it had been resolved. But healing is not a one time event. It is an ongoing process, and each time we heal something, or a portion of something, another layer appears and starts unraveling.
And when this most recent layer unraveled, it surprised me because it showed me I still had some people pleasing tendencies, just in a less obvious form.
It was eye opening to understand why I felt guilty for not spending as much time online lately. I’ve been sharing my story and my words to offer hope and to help others feel less alone as they navigate their healing journeys. But underneath that, there was something else.
There was the guilt for feeling like I wasn’t doing enough, but there was also fear of being forgotten, lost in the algorithm, becoming invisible and that it would somehow destroy what I’ve been building.
Feeling guilty for resting and taking a break is not about discipline. It is people pleasing disguised as devotion.
Pressure to Create
I had been putting pressure on myself to come up with words of wisdom every day because it seemed like others in spiritual and healing spaces always have something profound to say. They seem to have the ability to offer insight on demand. And by stepping back, it felt like I was falling behind, like I was no longer doing enough.
With deeper reflection, I remembered that writing is a creative process. It is not something we can force. And whenever I’ve tried to force it, it was never my best work.
That realization also helped me understand why so many content creators are turning to AI.
Can’t think of what to write today? There is AI for that. Copy, paste, done. Visibility maintained, even if the words are disconnected from authenticity.
But there is another important part of the process of sharing our words. And that is the energy behind them. Our unique and authentic frequency that goes into everything we create. That is why people resonate with us in the first place. And also why a lot of AI generated content feels so bland. There is no heart or soul that goes into those words.
“In a world of tweets and tags, the most powerful statement can be silence.”
— Unknown
Recognizing Old Patterns
Recognizing that the feeling of guilt, and the fear of being forgotten was still present was an important moment for me. Listening to my nervous system forced me to confront the uncomfortable belief that I somehow owe the online world my presence, even when it costs me my regulation.
That belief is not spiritual or healing. It is a trauma response.
There is nothing conscious about overriding my nervous system so I can remain visible. There is nothing sacred about forcing creativity just so the algorithm doesn’t forget me.
One of the most beautiful parts of this journey has been learning to recognize old programming and conditioning when it shows up, rather than being consumed by it again.
The moment I admitted that I was afraid of being forgotten, and that I felt guilt around not creating and sharing enough, I saw how that pattern was still running in my life. It wasn’t loud or destructive like it used to be. It was just there, waiting patiently for permission to run again.
But awareness changed the dynamic.
I did not come this far in my healing to let old patterns surface in a more socially acceptable form. Rest is not laziness, not being able to create on demand is not failure, and stepping back is not abandoning my purpose.
It’s respecting what my nervous system is telling me.
Forcing Creates Resistance
Every time I have tried to force the creative process, it has only created a bigger block. And that’s because anything we force creates resistance. The ideas and the words come when they come, and I have learned to accept that.
For me, the ideas and words do not usually arrive when I am staring at a screen waiting for them. They come when I am meditating or walking in nature. The times when my nervous system feels safe, calm, and open to receiving the information.
I’m not judging those who use AI to write for them, but I don’t believe there is anything authentic about outsourcing your voice just so you can stay visible without being present.
And energy cannot be faked.
People don’t resonate with perfectly written words. They resonate with lived truth. With our presence, authenticity, and our unique frequency.
How about you? Can you relate to any of this?
Maybe it’s pressure to post regularly to please the algorithm, or the fear of being forgotten or left behind when we feel unseen.
Maybe it’s the validation that comes from likes and comments.
Or maybe it is writing what you think others want to hear, or censoring yourself to avoid upsetting anyone.
All of these can be expressions of people pleasing. And this is not about judgment, it’s about awareness because I can’t be the only one who has had to navigate this.
We are not machines that can produce on demand. It’s okay to take a break from screens. In fact, it’s more than okay. Sometimes it’s absolutely necessary for our wellbeing.
One of the biggest lessons I have learned is that rest is not optional. Ignoring what my nervous system was asking for in the past did not serve me at all. And I’m never going back to that place.
“Create from your center, not from other people’s expectations.”
— Alana Voss
Reflection
So, if you’ve been experiencing something similar, I invite you to gently reflect on the following:
Are you spending time online or sharing when you feel called to, or because you feel like you have to? Are you afraid less visibility might cause you to disappear?
Are you sharing because energy wants to move through you, or because you have been taught that visibility equals value?
If you have felt any of this, how did you navigate it?
If you feel open and called to share, I would love to hear your experiences and insights in the comments or chat 👇
Sharing our stories is one of the ways we contribute to collective healing. Every time one of us unravels a layer, heals, and raises our vibration, we send an energetic ripple into the collective that helps light the way for others.
Because when one of us heals, we all rise.
As always, I’m so grateful to have you here, walking alongside me on this healing journey. If this post resonated, clicking the little heart below helps others in our Collective find it too. And if you feel called to support my work further, a coffee is always appreciated 🙏💖👇




I've given up on visibility. I grew up in the shadow of a sibling who shined so bright that I became practically invisible. Text book childhood trauma. So I am used to being overlooked and yes, it does still sting when my work only gets a smattering response.
I know, I know that I don't post often enough to be noticed by anyone other than those who also subscribe to my wife. She encourages and promotes my work and I am thankful for that because otherwise I would have given up months ago.
I'm not on a level anywhere close to many on here, but I only write poems from my heart when inspired. I think they're pretty good and I enjoy the process. I'll also post an article or one of my photos if it feels right. That's all I can do, if people reject it, so be it. Besides, it's cooler in the shadows. 🙃
I write because I want to and need to, then I wonder if I'm writing too much and others will get tired of it. Does it make sense? So maybe I "tone my writing down" to be visible and leave those posts in drafts.
If I "tone down" my writing. I can feel myself shrinking.