Choosing the Quiet path: why I’ve stepped away from social media

There’s a quiet kind of courage in choosing the slower way. In a world that tells us to be everywhere, all the time — to post, to share, to perform — there’s something deeply grounding about choosing stillness instead. About trusting that what is meant for you will find its way, even without the noise.

For so long, I felt the pull of the digital tide — that subtle pressure to be seen, to stay relevant, to prove that I was moving forward. The unspoken belief that visibility equals worth, that speed equals success. And yet, somewhere deep within, I’ve always known that my work — my offerings, my business, my creation of heart and hands — was never meant to be rushed.

Every time I tried to fit myself into that rhythm of social media, something within me grew tense. The quiet magic I feel when I create — the softness, the peace, the slowness — seemed to disappear beneath the noise. And I realized: that’s not the energy I want behind my work.

This is also part of the reason why I have been doing my work in silence over the course of many years, not sharing, not posting or even telling anyone about it (well sometimes I have tried and it never felt quite right), because each time I did it made me feel pressured to deliver, to prove that my business was worthy for others to approve and like. It took away my joy, my genuine happiness of simply creating at my own speed.

I also received some skeptical questions such as "oh wow, are you making a living out of it?", "are you actually selling anything" (as if that is what matters most) or comments like "oh you are so lucky, not everyone is that fortunate to go after their passion".

These comments might seem insignificant, but to me as a sensitive soul pouring my heart into my passion and creation, it was heartbreaking, it felt deeply discouraging (also coming from people I really care about). And I am sure many other solo, female entrepreneurs can relate to this, that choosing to do things differently and choosing to do what genuinely makes you happy will inevitably irritate some people.

But the more I have chosen over and over again to follow my path, trust what feels right and not bend for the opinions or expectations of others, the deeper my confidence has grown and my sense of self value. I have also realized, that I don't need the approval of others to feel fulfilled with my business as long as I am deeply anchored in my own truth. It's not that I don't care, but I am no longer dependent on it because I know what works for me and I know that the right people appreciate it, they are naturally drawn to it because it resonates - they feel the same way.

I don’t want to chase attention; I want to cultivate connection. I want people to find my creations not through a scroll, but through resonance — through something that stirs gently in them when they encounter what I’ve made. And for that to become a reality, I needed to learn how to cultivate a deep connection with myself first before I could do that within my business.

I long for depth, not reach. Connection, not clicks. The kind of presence that can only be built when we move at the pace of trust.

I believe there’s beauty in the unseen process — in the quiet moments of creation, in the careful wrapping of a candle, in the whispered scent that fills a home before anyone else knows it exists. That’s where I find meaning. That’s where my work feels alive.

So, I’ve chosen not to build my business through social media. Not because I don’t see its beauty or potential — but because I feel called to another rhythm. One that allows my work to grow gently, in harmony with my own natural pace: rooted, tender, intentional.

There’s a sacredness in allowing people to find you organically — through word of mouth, through shared experiences, through the quiet magic that happens when something true touches someone’s heart and they can’t help but tell another.

This choice isn’t about resistance; it’s about alignment. It’s about honoring the seasons of creativity and rest, about tending to my inner landscape before tending to the external. It’s about trusting that I don’t need to shout to be seen — that authenticity hums louder than algorithms ever could.

And I know I’m not alone in this. So many women — sensitive, intuitive, deeply feeling women — have been taught to build from a place of striving rather than receiving. We’ve been told that success means constant motion, that rest is indulgence, that ease is laziness. But the feminine was never meant to force; she was meant to flow.

When we soften into that truth, something beautiful happens. Our work begins to breathe again. We create not to prove, but to express. We allow ourselves to be vessels of something honest, rather than managers of our own performance.

The feminine soul blooms through gentleness — through trust, through rhythm, through allowing herself to move at her own pace. She creates best when she feels safe, nourished, and unhurried. And when she leads from that space, her work naturally radiates warmth — it draws in what’s aligned, without striving.

I believe that the right people — my people — will always find me. Not because I’ve appeared in their feed, but because what I offer resonates with where they are on their own journey. Because energy speaks, and sincerity travels in ways no platform can replicate.

Choosing the quiet path may look unconventional in today’s world, but to me, it feels deeply true. It’s slower, yes — but it’s also softer, more sustainable, and endlessly more human.

So I’ll keep tending to my craft, my heart, my work — and trust that every seed planted with care will find its way to bloom, in its own time, in its own light. Because that’s what real growth is: not the kind that rushes to be seen, but the kind that grows deep roots before it ever reaches the surface.

And that, to me, is success.