There was a time when I refreshed my follower count like it held the key to my self-worth.
Every new subscriber felt like a win.
Every unfollow felt like a setback.
I told myself I was “building an audience,” but really, I was chasing validation dressed up as growth.
Then something shifted. I noticed how the accounts that inspired me didn’t just have large followings — they had familiar names in their comment sections.
Real people. Loyal readers. Conversations, not just impressions.
That’s when I stopped measuring progress in follower counts and started measuring it in names I recognize.
Social media tells us to play a numbers game: more followers, more reach, more likes. But the truth is, numbers are like empty calories — they fill your ego but not your purpose.
We post something that resonates and feel a quick hit of validation. Then the algorithm moves on, and so do the people who double-tapped it.
The problem isn’t that growth is bad; it’s that most of it isn’t real. There’s a difference between being seen and being remembered. Between being followed and being felt.
Slow growth feels frustrating in a world obsessed with virality. But slow growth is the kind that lasts. It builds roots, not reach. It turns followers into friends and commenters into community.
Now, when I scroll through my notifications, I don’t look for numbers. I look for names. The reader who always adds a thoughtful comment. The fellow creator who shares my work without asking for anything in return. The quiet supporter who messages me months later saying a post helped them make a change.
Those names are my metrics now.
Each one represents trust, resonance, and genuine connection — things no algorithm can manufacture.
I’ve learned that you can’t fake familiarity. You earn it one authentic post at a time, by showing up consistently and speaking from a place of truth rather than performance.
The Illusion of 'Networking'
There’s a myth online that success comes from constant outreach — commenting everywhere, liking everything, DM’ing influencers, and begging for collaboration. But that kind of networking is often transactional. You’re not connecting; you’re collecting.
When every interaction is driven by the thought, “Maybe this person will boost my visibility,” you lose sight of something more powerful: relational currency.
Relational currency is built on value, not vanity. It’s when people think of you because you’ve given them something meaningful — insight, encouragement, perspective, honesty.
When I stopped trying to “network” and started trying to nourish relationships, everything changed. I didn’t need to chase visibility anymore. Visibility started finding me.
How to Grow Slowly (and Stay Sane Doing It)
- Focus on depth, not width.
Ask yourself: Am I trying to reach more people, or am I trying to reach people more deeply? The second approach builds loyalty. The first builds noise. - Engage like a human, not a marketer.
Don’t just drop fire emojis or quick compliments. Read, respond, and reflect. Make your comments valuable. People remember thoughtful engagement. - Show up even when it’s quiet.
The slow season is where trust is built. Keep sharing, even when you feel unseen — because consistency compounds. - Celebrate micro-connections.
That one comment that made your day? That message that said “thank you”? That’s progress. Every genuine interaction is a building block of your digital legacy. - Tell stories, not strategies.
People connect with emotions, not tactics. When you share what’s real — the mistakes, lessons, and mindset shifts — your content becomes magnetic. - Detach from the algorithm’s validation.
You are not your analytics. The best content doesn’t always go viral right away. Some of your most meaningful work will grow in silence, only to bloom later when the right person needs it.
The Beauty of Being Recognised, Not Just Followed
A follower count is a statistic.
A recognized name is a relationship.
When someone comments, “I was just thinking about this!” or “You always know how to say what I need to hear,” that’s impact. That’s proof that your voice matters.
The more I leaned into genuine connection, the lighter content creation felt. I no longer felt like I was shouting into the void — I was conversing in a room filled with people who understood.
That’s when you realise: You don’t need everyone to listen. You just need the right ones to stay.
We’re in an era where trust is rare and attention is expensive. The real influencers of the future won’t be the ones with the biggest audiences — they’ll be the ones with the most authentic relationships.
When people trust you, they follow your work, not your trends. They read your words with intention. They root for your success because they feel a part of it.
That’s the kind of growth that compounds beyond social media — into opportunities, partnerships, and friendships that actually matter.
So, no — I no longer measure progress in follower counts.
I measure it in familiar names, in thoughtful comments, in conversations that last longer than a scroll.
Because at the end of the day, slow growth might not get you viral fame — but it will get you something better: real connection.
And in a era where everyone seems to be chasing followers, that might just be the rarest form of success.