Why I Deleted My First YouTube Video

This month, I’ve been working on a follow-up to my first YouTube video. This one will deep dive into my history with mental health, the ways I self-regulated, and what I’ve made from all of it. As I’ve been re-processing this narrative, I realized why my gut constricts when I try to stand behind its predecessor.

My first video was confronting, hard-lined, and sharp. I spent its launch braced for impact. Meanwhile, I wasn’t putting myself on the line—I was hiding behind it.

When I wrote that first script six months ago, I was parsing out what it means to speak with authority.

Today, I realized I haven’t been making a follow-up video. I’ve been reorienting where I want my voice to come from.

To be sovereign doesn’t just mean to be self-governed. It means knowing what part of you is leading you.

Before, I thought bravery meant standing in the most absolute version of your truth and being ready for backlash. While that is brave, it’s not the only form of it—and there’s another form I’m challenging myself with.

There’s a space where it’s safer to be polarizing. When you’re polarizing, you’re putting yourself behind an army. Even if your view is unpopular, you’re still protected by the army of your ego.

There’s a space where it’s safer to do the triggering. You’re the one in control. No one has to see you fall to your hands and knees—even if you have.

There’s a space where it’s safer to put yourself on a pedestal. You become easier to see and harder to access.

But to show up in the embodiment of my lived experience—without the guardrails of ideology—exposes me. Because this is where my heart lives, unobstructed.

I took down my first YouTube video because I took down my walls. My truth is still alive, but it’s standing in a different place now.

I choose to be led from here.

From love.