Going viral, three years later.

Some thoughts on the wildest whirlwind I've ever experienced.

In May 2020, I was panicking. A few months into the pandemic, brand deals were slowing down. My social media clients were unsure about the future of the economy, and I could feel that I might start losing work. Did I mention that I was five months pregnant? I wasn’t sure how I’d afford maternity leave without draining my savings unless work picked up.

Then came the strangest time of my life.

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I didn’t want to watch the video of George Floyd’s murder, but it was unavoidable as someone who spends an unhealthy amount of time on Twitter. I remember feeling equal parts incensed and hopeless because I didn’t expect anything to fundamentally change. Something interesting happened that I couldn’t have predicted: the anger that non-Black people felt about Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery became a social media movement. I shared an Instagram video asking people to speak up to support their Black friends. It garnered over a million views. 

My Instagram following quadrupled nearly overnight. Celebrities and big-name bloggers DMed me to thank me for my posts. Brands I never dreamt would want to partner with me were in my inbox. I received so many media requests that I had to prioritize the big outlets. I got the coveted blue checkmark on Instagram. Things were going well, but I felt uneasy about my newfound success. A Black man was publicly lynched, and I was suddenly bombarded with positive attention. One woman told me I was the first Black person she’d ever followed on social media. Not even Obama? Beyonce?!

I was overwhelmed by hundreds of messages, many from white people asking me questions about racism that could be quickly answered by Google. I spent hours daily responding to DMs. It was untenable, especially as I dealt with the discomfort of my third trimester. I felt conflicted about all of the recognition I was getting. I wondered whether it was sustainable.

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Today, support for Black Lives Matter has dropped considerably since June 2020. A recent New York Times poll found that Trump has a chance of beating Biden next year. Police reform efforts have primarily stalled nationwide. I wish I could say that I was surprised, but I would’ve been shocked if things had actually gotten better. Many of the same people who lauded me for my palatable anti-racist posts weren’t happy when I spoke out against Trump later that year. One person accused me of playing the victim. Some of the famous influencers who fawned over me no longer follow me on Instagram.

2020 was still a tight year financially, thanks to my maternity leave and hospital bills, but things turned around. In 2021, I made considerable money from brand deals after companies vowed to diversify their influencer efforts. This year, my partnership earnings are down considerably. (I have other income streams, but it’s a hit to my pride.)

Going viral changed my life. It afforded me more opportunities than I would’ve had in a lifetime otherwise. But when I look back at that time, I have conflicted emotions about how it all played out. I like to think my posts got people thinking, but I wonder how much of the praise was motivated by guilt. I do know that I don’t feel much more hopeful for the future than I did in 2020, which I probably could have predicted.