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Are We Putting Too Much Trust in Influencers?

A soft rebellion: reclaiming identity in a copy-and-paste culture.



“No Such Thing as a Life That Is Better Than Yours.” – J. Cole


In a world of eight billion people, individuality is beginning to feel like a lost art. Somewhere along the way, many of us stopped choosing what we genuinely love and began choosing what is liked. We traded personal taste for trend cycles, authentic curiosity for recommendation algorithms, and self-definition for imitation.


There was a time when online spaces felt human, when creators were simply sharing what they enjoyed, documenting their lives, experimenting, reviewing, connecting. But as content creation shifted into an industry, something changed. Influence became a commodity. The role of the “content creator” was redefined, no longer rooted in creativity or originality, but in virality, product pushing, and the performance of a lifestyle.


Influencing the Influencers | MAGIC FOR HUMANS | NETFLIX


We now live in a culture where opinions are often lifted, copied, and recycled. Where individuality bends under the pressure of fitting into an aesthetic, a niche, a brand. Where promoting a product carries more weight than promoting integrity. The result is a subtle erosion of personal identity: we begin to want what we are told to want, even when it does not align with who we are.


We’ve placed an astonishing amount of trust in influencers, often without questioning where that trust comes from. Many of these recommendations are not genuine reflections of personal experience, but carefully curated marketing strategies. Aesthetic backdrops, soft lighting, scripted enthusiasm, affiliate codes, and emotionally targeted captions aren’t accidental; they’re persuasive tools designed to sell.


We are encouraged to believe that if we buy what they buy, live how they live, and look how they look, we’ll finally feel fulfilled. That’s the manipulation: the illusion of closeness. Influencers present themselves as relatable, familiar, “just like us,” and that familiarity breeds loyalty. But when influence is built on performance rather than authenticity, it becomes less about inspiration and more about subtle consumer conditioning.


Influencing leads to overconsumption
Influencing leads to overconsumption

I have experienced this myself, purchasing things not because I loved them, but because “everyone” had them. The guilt came later: not just financial regret, but the unsettling realization of how easily I had been swayed. And when I looked closer, I noticed this pattern repeating everywhere. People mimicking lifestyles they cannot sustain, values they do not hold, aspirations that are not their own. Sometimes even fabricating luxury- pretending to receive PR packages, curating a life that doesn’t exist, in the hopes of eventually being validated by it.


So the question becomes: When did our own lives stop being enough? And more importantly, why?


Which feeds capitalism
Which feeds capitalism

This is not a condemnation. It is a call to return to ourselves. To remember that having a different opinion is not conflict; it is character. That taste is supposed to be personal. That the most valuable thing we can offer the world is a self that is honest, grounded, and unconstructed.


There is strength in choosing to lead your life rather than model it on someone else’s. There is dignity in asking: Does this align with my values? My identity? My joy? And there is power in deciding that your voice matters more than the voice of someone whose influence is built on aesthetics alone. Because at the end of the day, trends will fade. Algorithms will shift. Influence will move on. What remains is you.


Your character. Your choices. Your integrity. And the quiet, steady truth that your life does not need to look like anyone else’s to be meaningful.



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