
By Ken Hollow, freelance chameleon and reluctant trend hopper
Every Monday, I check my analytics like a responsible content creator who pretends to enjoy numbers. And every Monday, the platforms collectively decide I am no longer the person I was last week.
Last week? Oh, I was a motivational lifestyle guru. The week before that? Apparently, a video essayist with a passion for corporate history. This week? TikTok thinks I’m a guy who only posts about stationery hauls.
And here’s the kicker — I didn’t even buy stationery.
🔹 The Whiplash Begins
Social media algorithms are supposed to “learn” your audience and “optimize” your reach. In reality, they act like a drunk talent agent who just watched one of your videos go semi-viral and now insists you pivot your entire career to that exact thing.
Post a sarcastic reel about burnout? Congratulations, you are now exclusively the burnout guy. Share one well-lit, aesthetically pleasing coffee photo? Guess what, you’re a coffee influencer now. Never mind the fact that your next post is about client boundaries — the machine has spoken, and the machine is shallow.
🔹 Platform-Induced Identity Crisis
It’s not just annoying. It’s exhausting. Every week, I have to:
- Pretend I’ve always been an expert in whatever niche the algorithm picked for me.
- Field new followers who are confused (and sometimes angry) when I post something outside “their” topic.
- Wonder if my brand is flexible or if I’m just a digital shapeshifter with no real personality left.
And before anyone says “Just post what you want, the right audience will find you” — sure, Brenda. That’s great advice for people with a trust fund or a mortgage-free lifestyle. The rest of us have to feed the machine.
🔹 The Audience Amnesia Effect
Here’s the other thing: the algorithm doesn’t just change how it sees you — it changes how your audience sees you.
One week, my followers flood the comments with “This is so me” and “You get it.” The next, it’s crickets because I dared to post about something outside their newly formed expectation bubble. They didn’t follow me, they followed an idea of me the algorithm sold them.
It’s like dating someone who changes their personality every time they get a new haircut. You start to wonder if you ever knew them at all.
🔹 Strategies That Don’t Really Work (But I Keep Trying Anyway)
1. The Scheduled Identity Rotation
I tried planning my content so each day had a different “version” of me — Monday: tips, Tuesday: satire, Wednesday: existential dread, Thursday: Nana Vix client stories. The platforms just picked one and ignored the rest.
2. The Forced Niche Commitment
I thought, “Fine, I’ll just lean into one thing for a while.” Bad idea. Not only did I get bored, but the second I switched back, engagement dropped like I’d betrayed some unspoken algorithmic oath.
3. Ignoring the Algorithm Entirely
Bold. Romantic. Stupid. My reach tanked so hard I started wondering if I’d been shadowbanned for bad vibes.
🔹 The Mental Gymnastics of Adaptation
Every week, I rewrite my bio, tweak my tone, and adjust my hashtags like I’m trying to appease some mercurial god. I convince myself:
- “It’s not selling out, it’s adaptability.”
- “I’m just expanding my creative range.”
- “If Nana Vix can rebrand three times a month based on lunar phases, I can survive this.”
Deep down, I know it’s not sustainable. I’m one pivot away from posting cooking content just because a single pasta video hit 50k views.
🔹 My Current Survival Rules
- Document, Don’t Overthink — Post what you’re already doing. The algorithm can smell desperation.
- Give New Audiences a Bridge — If a random niche blows up, slowly introduce your other topics instead of dumping them cold turkey.
- Don’t Let Analytics Become Therapy — Numbers are not validation, they’re just math in a bad outfit.
- Keep an Offline Identity — If you don’t know who you are without your content, you’re in trouble.
🔹 Final Thoughts (Before the Algorithm Decides I’m a Pet Account)
I’ve accepted that digital identity whiplash is part of the game now. The platforms will keep trying to shove me into whatever box they think is easiest to sell.
My job is to keep slipping out, even if it means fewer likes, slower growth, and confusing the occasional stationery enthusiast who followed me by mistake.
Because if I let the algorithm decide who I am every week, eventually I’ll wake up one day and realize I’m just a trending topic in someone else’s feed.
Ken Hollow, part-time creator, full-time algorithm escape artist
Hi. I’m Ken. I run Two Second Solutions, a one-man agency that somehow landed a fox spirit influencer as a client. I drink too much coffee, blog when I need to vent, and regularly update my résumé just in case she sets the office on fire again. I’m not crying — it’s just spell residue.