Previously published on Substack.
What if I’m Not That Girl Anymore? What happens when you’ve outgrown the person you used to be? I stumbled through those words in therapy, eyes brimming with tears, realizing that my first time crying in that space was over, and whether I should deactivate my Instagram. That probably sounds crazy, but if you’ve ever built something that changed your life, something that felt right, you understand.
Over the past two years, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with Instagram and my content. I’m a niche content creator, known mostly for cocktails. During the pandemic, I leaned into beverage content and experienced incredible success. I worked with dream brands, traveled with leading spirit companies, and even wrote a book.
One thing I’ve learned about myself, and maybe why I approach new ideas with caution, is that I’m naturally good at a lot of things. And when I lock in, I usually find success. But being good at something doesn’t always mean you’re interested in it.
Back in 2020, when Instagram released Reels and everyone was clinging to content, I posted a Sangria video that went viral. I had been sharing food and drinks, but when I realized spirit brands paid more, I niched down. I worked on my content every single day and built something I was genuinely proud of. I didn’t pitch brands—they found me.
Martell, Empress 1908, Cointreau, Disaronno, Angostura… the list goes on. My work is featured in Elle, Harper’s Bazaar, BuzzFeed, and Forbes. I even created a cocktail for a Neutrogena campaign featuring Jennifer Garner. When Honey Pot launched their Bergamot & Rose collection, they asked me to make a drink to celebrate it.
I quit my full-time job and signed with a talent agency, but shortly after, my drive started to slow down. Some of it was burnout, but deep down, I knew what was happening. I was losing interest. Even though I built a brand I loved, I was disconnected from it. I stopped posting drink videos. I shrank. Maybe I even hid behind the content. When I shared this with peers, one said, “But you’re so good at it.”
Yeah, I know.
So, of all the things I could’ve talked about in therapy, I chose Instagram because it had become a constant source of stress. My therapist asked, “What do you mean, what if you’re not that girl anymore?”
What if I don’t have the energy to start from scratch? I’m not 33 anymore. I work full-time again. I can’t pull all-nighters. What if I just don’t have it in me to build something like that again?
Have you ever grieved a version of yourself that you truly adored?
From 2020 to 2023, I watched myself close five-figure deals in my pajamas on a Tuesday afternoon, fly across the country to enjoy cocktails, take spontaneous trips, and summer with my family in Martha’s Vineyard. I admire that version of me, not just because she was successful, but because she was living her dream. She built something from nothing. And she made it look easy.
But the wildest part? I was never really interested in making cocktails. I loved the storytelling, the creativity, the connection it sparked—but the drinks themselves? They were just the medium.
That therapy session was two months ago. Around the same time, I started writing here. I wasn’t ready to start over, but I knew I needed a place to come home to myself. A space to be interested in something else.
So when I think about what happens when you’ve outgrown the person you used to be, here’s what I’ve learned:
- I’m not starting over from scratch. I’m bringing everything I’ve built, everything I’ve learned, and everything I now know about who I am and what matters most. I’m not pulling all-nighters. I’m not chasing virality. I’m not shrinking to fit.
- You don’t have to stay where you no longer feel alive, even if you built it, even if it worked, even if people loved it.
- Being good at something doesn’t mean you’re called to keep doing it. Your joy is just as valuable as your talent.
- Starting over isn’t a weakness. It’s wisdom, especially when you’re choosing clarity and alignment over burnout, pressure, and performance.
Somehow, in this quieter season, without chasing, pitching, or posting daily, this version of me made it onto the Substack leaderboard. #73 Rising in Health & Wellness. Not because I was the loudest or strategized my way there, but because I showed up honestly.
I guess I am still that girl :-)
Have you ever outgrown a version of yourself you feared letting go of? I’d love to hear about it. Thank you for reading.
With care,
Jaylynn
