When “Niche Down” Costs You Parts of Yourself

    I told myself my niche was self-publishing and writing. I created the website and the social media pages. I did all of the things. That wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t complete. What I didn’t understand then was how much pressure that advice carried, or how quietly it asked me to leave parts of myself behind.

    “Niche down” started to feel less like guidance and more like an eraser. It suggested that my story needed trimming. That my experiences needed editing. That the parts of me shaped by illness, grief, faith, recovery, leadership, motherhood, and survival were somehow extra. I felt like I had to choose one lane when my life had clearly taken many—and none of them were accidental.

    Every role I’ve held informed the other parts of me at the same time. Niching down didn’t make my work clearer, rather it made it feel disconnected from me. And over time, that disconnect created quiet resistance. Not because I lacked discipline, but because something in me knew I was being asked to shrink.

    There’s a particular grief that comes from trying to make yourself more “marketable.” It doesn’t show up all at once. It shows up in hesitation. In daily self-reflections. In the feeling that you're leaving too much unsaid. I didn’t realize it then, but I was grieving parts of myself while trying to brand the rest. In those moments, the branding didn't feel fulfilling because so much of me was being left out. 

    I was leaving out so much that makes me relatable to single moms, divorce moms, women of faith and women who can't see it yet but they are thriving in adverse situations without having the language to it. I named the whole of who I am. Mom. Believer. Educator. Writer. Survivor. I'm every woman. A multi-talented woman who has a publishing company designed to help others tell their stories.

    Now, the writing comes easier. The ideas connected. The resistance softened. Not because I had finally figured out the “right” strategy—but because I stopped abandoning myself in the process. 

    This is what perfectly packaged actually means to me now. Not polished. Not minimized. Integrated. Whole. Honest. Every role informing the other. Nothing wasted.