After years of building an authentic online community, local content creator Hannah Rose Keys found herself thrust into full-blown influencer status – brands knocking, inbox overflowing, and her vintage-filled home slowly turning into a content studio.
But what looked like a dream gig from the outside quickly became a trap of endless deliverables, blurred boundaries, and burnout.
In this raw and refreshing piece, Hannah shares why she hit pause on paid partnerships, what #NoPromo has given back to her life, and the reality of reclaiming your platform on your own terms.
Around a year ago, my Instagram exploded. After six years, I hit a winning formula and saw my following explode.
That visibility turned me into something valuable: I had reached ‘influencer’ status and the emails and DMs started flooding in.
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve worked in the media and influencer marketing before, but when it happened to me, it was kind of an eyes-wide-open situation.
I understood from the jump that it was an exchange. I understood how valuable an influencer shout out can be, how golden UGC is when you’re a brand trying to fill out a content calendar. So, I obliged.
Sure, a lot of brands were great to work with, but I started to feel like the power balance was all off. I was being offered products worth a few dollars to the company, with deliverables as long as my arm. Or they’d send me something with ‘no pressure’ to post, only to be hit with a guilt-trip follow up email a few days later. Or I’d negotiate a big ol’ contract only to have them pay me a month late.
Eventually, I was making thousands each month working with brands, but as the offers rolled in, so did a creeping discomfort. Agencies were circling, telling me how to mould my audience and my content to be more commercially viable. And instead of feeling like I’d made it; I was just getting the ick.
Whether you’re macro, micro or mega, being an influencer means time and energy, giving so much of yourself; your life, your family, all just to get paid.
I didn’t feel like my life was mine anymore. My home had been chopped up into Insta-ready corners, my beloved vintage wardrobe and decor being used to shift someone else’s merchandise. And worst of all, I didn’t like the person I was becoming, nor did I like the persona I’d become online; commoditising the community I’d built organically and lovingly for so long.
So, at the end of March, I stopped completely. I went #nopromo.
Here’s what’s happened since I made that call.
1. My letterbox can breathe again
At my influencer peak, I was getting packages multiple times a week.
When I started saying no; the relief was instantaneous. Each one of those packages comes with a silent (or unmistakable) expectation. The weight of all those packages was suffocating…and now it’s just gone.
2. My life isn’t full of stuff I don’t need
I only ever said yes to things I wanted to receive, but I definitely ended up with things I wouldn’t have bought for myself. Now I buy what I want, when I want. I can consider what I bring into my life again, instead of just accepting whatever I get offered. Overconsumption is out – and it’s peaceful as heck.
3. I’m in the red
Saying no to partnerships has meant less money in, more money out. But it’s given me space to go after better offers. I know influencer money looks easy, but it’s scattered, unsustainable, and demanding. It never felt like ‘free’ money – it felt like managing stakeholders, reshoots, approvals, and tripping over commercial lighting setups in my living room.
Yeah, I’m making less, but I think it’s for the best.
4. I’ve got my freedom back
Without brands and agencies watching my every move, I get to post what I want, when I want. Just creative freedom to go wherever my heart takes me. Social media has become fun again!
5. I’m back in control of my life
Influencing can trick you into thinking you’re in control – but often, you’re being taken advantage of. The brand isn’t paying for a page in your magazine, no, it owns a piece of content, your face, your home, your voice, your stuff, your story. They become part of your platform and you become part of theirs.
Now I get to go back to building something that’s meaningful and aligned with who I am. I might not get paid for my time and effort right now, but it feels like I’m working towards something that I won’t have to give up my values, or sell my soul for.
I get it – being an influencer looks glamorous, but it made me feel small. I felt like I was operating under obligation to others instead of living my life for me. I know some influencers wouldn’t have it any other way, but let’s just say this: just because all the cool kids are doing it, doesn’t mean you have to.
