At my eighth birthday party, I got nothing but olives.
That’s the real story: relatives came to my home bearing gifts. Some thirty-odd individuals crowded in a room as I tore the wrapping paper off assorted jars of green olives.
I was not as upset as you’d imagine—more so perplexed. What just happened?
The explanation only became clear in hindsight. My birthday isn’t long after Christmas, and on Christmas Eve the Nislys gathered for the holiday. On this occasion, someone had brought a vegetable tray. I remember a cousin crying out at the sight of olives on their plate. Seeing they were unpleased, I offered to eat them instead. It was a favor, really.
“You like olives?” another asked. None of my cousins, who were all teenagers, wanted to be the odd man out, enjoying an olive. They scraped theirs onto my plate. Then the girls did the same, though at that point they were simply babying me.
Unbeknownst to me, that Christmas Eve I solidified my reputation as the olive kid. The stage had been set. Two weeks later, when it came time for those same relatives to pick me a birthday gift, each had the same brilliant thought.
Have you been online lately?
Let me rephrase: have you watched shortform vertical video lately?
The TikTok-ification of the internet continues to mature. First Instagram, then YouTube and Facebook. Apparently, even Pinterest is experimenting with shortform video.
Look, I’m no hater. My thoughts from last week notwithstanding, you can’t fight progress. Your intake should consist of more than algorithmic feeds, but all things in moderation. Right?
With the landscape of apps evolving toward video, anyone can make it big—but not everyone chooses to. The gamification of platforms leaves many users feeling that social media is no longer a place for connecting with friends; it’s only for those seeking exposure. The average user is increasingly content to scroll quietly, while the users left posting are those with something to promote.
I’ve experienced this myself. Launching this Substack, I had no option but to promote out of the gate. Writing isn’t the flashiest medium, so every bit of traction had to be earned. I’d much rather do this quietly, if that were all it took, but someone has to spread the word. Now, I’m here studying growth strategies for video, even experimenting on a YouTube channel.
The first guidance you’ll hear about growing a platform? Niche down. Decide what content you’ll make and never change the message. This is the foundational rule. The clarity restraint limitation found in sticking to your niche is the key to your success. That’s why viral sensations run the same trick over and again—even after the magic fades.
If you sense my sarcasm, congratulations. The idea of sacrificing all but one aspect of your life in exchange for eyeballs seems a little crass.
But I hope I don’t sound defensive. These discussions about “picking a lane” simply agitate the artist in me who defies feeling pinned down.
Or perhaps, the resistance stems back to my olive turmoil.
On that fateful Christmas Eve, I was donned the title of olive kid.
Did I like olives? Sure. If anyone would have asked, though, I actually preferred pickles.
After that night, I slowed my roll on the olive eating. It wasn’t a reputation I sought to earn, and I wanted no confusion that my ninth birthday should be different.
There’s a danger in becoming “the ____ guy,” no matter how you fill in that blank. The mantle follows you. It informs how others conceive of you. It sets their expectations of you. Show off your party trick once, and you’d best be prepared to repeat it.
The way you sell yourself is the same way you have to continue.
Because niching down is fair advice—if marketability is the goal. My personal feelings aside, it makes business sense. No one would expect a crowd showing up at their door, peering in the window just to see what you’re up to today. Will it be a new recipe? Is the cat being hilarious? How about some political commentary?
We don’t expect strangers to care. But who would care? Family and friends. Yeah, show me what’s cooking.
Which brings us back to the bifurcation of social media users. The gathering spaces built on the offer of connection with friends have morphed into something different—that’s okay. Things change. What’s up to users to decide is how they interact moving ahead.
The balance between authenticity and marketability is a tricky one to strike. And it’s not just for those building online. You can be torn between college majors and weighing career paths financially. There’s a job offer across the country, but you’re unsure about moving your family.
The truth is we all pick labels and lanes. No one lives long at either extreme.
The saddest reality is that the game is rigged; you can become the olive kid before you know what’s happening.
No one controls how others perceive them. All you can control is the image you sell. And if you trade your soul, there’s little left to profit.
So I guess it’s an open question. Where is the balance? Have you ever faced a similar dilemma between swinging big and staying true?
Just for fun, here were alternate titles for this piece. I always have a few, but these seemed worth sharing.
Olive that for you
Olive me loves olive you
Olive Fame Induction
Caught in a pickle
Pickles contain multitudes
So that was you??? I had been in a pickle, not remembering which nephew loved olives! Thinking it was Dave. Now I know!
Thanks Tim!
I remember that olive birthday party vividly and I’m also so confused how that happened. Did someone plan to have everyone give you olives? Or it really just happened organically?
Also, Malachi is turning 8 soon and I’m just wondering how he would handle something like that 😬😅