This summer I took some distance from social media once. It wasn't the first and it definitely won’t be the last, but what I noticed was that every time I dipped back in I felt… off. Everything looked glossy, polished, performative. And it struck me, because I know that for many people, reality is lightyears away from that glossy feed. Instead of inspiration, I felt discomfort. Like I was watching a play where everyone was pretending a little too much. It wasn’t the first time I noticed—but distance made it glaring. And honestly? it kind of helped me stay away. So I kept swimming, reading books and listening to podcasts - with my favorite topics being - you guessed it - personal development, mindset, and ok. some more fun stuff, but that's for another post. Because this blog post was sparked by a very specific podcast episode.
Enter Roxy Nafousi, the so-called "Manifestation Queen"
Πέφτω λοιπόν πάνω σε ένα επεισόδιο που φιλοξενείται η Roxy και μιλάει- για τι άλλο- τη δύναμη του manifest και πως αυτό άλλαξε τη ζωή της. Για την ιστορία το βιβλίο της (Manifest) βγήκε στα ελληνικά, πριν δύο καλοκαίρια. Και ναι το διάβασα, —περιέργεια γαρ – και κατέληξα ότι ήταν καλό για παραλία αλλά τίποτα πρωτοποριακό. “Το Μυστικό” 2.0 με άλλο branding. Την ίδια περίοδο την είχα ακούσει και σε άλλο podcast να διηγείται την ιστορία της. Και τώρα, δύο χρόνια μετά, άλλο επεισόδιο, ίδια ακριβώς αφήγηση—λέξη προς λέξη. Το τσέκαρα, ήταν copy-paste. Η πορεία της ένα σενάριο που αναπαράγει με ακρίβεια κόμματος: εθισμός, ανεργία, έλλειψη νοήματος και σκοπού, σκοτάδι, μετά σωτηρία μέσω του manifest.
And that’s when it hit me: Her "bottom" is not my bottom. Not the bottom 90% of her audience. It's not even close. Feeling "lost" is very different depending on where you start. Nafousi talks about emotional and financial collapse, but was able to give herself a month-long yoga training program in Bali. She called herself unemployed, yet worked as a lifestyle editor at Marie Claire κατά τη διάρκεια των ετών που – κατά δική της ομολογία ήταν εθισμένη στην κοκαΐνη- ενώ παράλληλα έγραφε συμβουλές ευεξίας – κυριολεκτικά έγραφε άρθρα τύπου -“πως άλλαξε η ζωή μου σε 7 μέρες“- (eye rolling) απο αυτά που εμείς ως κοινό καταναλώνουμε με μανία. Ισχυρίζεται ότι το manifestation την έσωσε, αλλά είχε επίσης καλό οικονομικο υπόβαθρο, οικογενειακή υποστήριξη, ένα ευρύ κύκλο γνωριμιών και ένα δίκτυο πλουσίων και διασήμων φίλων (η γυναίκα πάρταρε με την Cara Delevigne και έβγαινε με τον Harry Styles) που μπορούσε να φέρει το βιβλίο της στα χέρια της Bella HadidWhich they did. For the record: three other books about manifesting came out the same year. Only hers became a bestseller.Coincidence?
Reality Check
Now I’m not saying that by her own standards she didn't hit rock bottom. Privilege doesn’t erase pain—but it changes the story. It doesn’t make it invalid, but it makes it incomplete. And the fact that, years later, she chooses to recycle only the catchiest parts? That signals intention. Meanwhile, having read her book, I’d say the most honest part was “fake it till you make it.” As her chapter on gratitude, well that’s where her’s is missing for the very real practical support that helped her way more than “positive thinking” ever could.And here’s where the discomfort creeps in: we consume these “transformation stories” as if they were universal roadmaps to wellness and well-being. We believe that if they made the life of their dreams come true, then maybe we can too. But often, what we're really watching isn't manifestation, a wellness routine, or any magical trend—it’s marketing.
The rise of 'fake influence'
Influencers, coaches, lifestyle experts—they’ve built empires on curated narratives. They’re not just selling products. They’re selling transformation. The problem? Transformation often comes bundled with untold privileges: money, networks, access. And we rarely ask:
- Who really benefits from this advice?
- Who can realistically apply it?
- What’s missing from the story they’re selling me?
Take beauty for example - which is the most popular niche after wellness. GRWM, tutorials, serums that cost €150. Spoiler: anyone can recommend an expensive serum if it comes free in a PR package. Of course products seem “amazing” if the brand pays for your five-star press trip to the Cyclades. And of course you can preach self-care and self-confidence, when you have access to every retreat and aesthetic intervention for free. Anyone can call themselves a life coach because they read a book or went through a traumatic experience that "changed them to their core" btw (I've seen spells in fantasy movies less effective). But how many are actually qualified? How many live what they preach off-camera? And how many would back the same lifestyle, products, or people if there wasn’t a paycheck attached?
De-influence as a choice
These thoughts were the reason why I ended up unfollowing dozens of accounts. Well that, along with the fact that this year I read at least 10 books that I can only call trash, bought blindly because of the hype. Way more than back when I chose books based on instinct, mood, or after a real conversation with someone whose taste I trusted. And yes, I know I'm not the only one talking about de-influence. Ironically, even that is becoming a trend. But to me it is something more. Not just "don't buy this cream", but fact-checking behind the cameras. It’s about digging deeper before we follow—or worse, idolize—any so-called expert. Ask yourself:
- Do they have real credentials? If we are talking about mental health specialists, life coaches, and consultants of all kinds, do they have academic studies or some certification or are they all based on their "personal experience"?
- Is their story authentic or just a neat script?
- Do we have the same starting point or are we comparing our reality to their privilege?
- Are they offering tools — or just selling ambition?
- Are they talking about products or services because they really believe in them and have invested in them themselves? or because they feel flattered that a brand/publisher/health group chose them and would promote mudwater from the nearest dumpster if that paid their bills?
- Do their values align with mine?
A different kind of inspiration
So that’s my call to action, in this pre September post, just before I hit my own restart. This season let’s turn our attention—and our money—to people who actually walk the talk. Coaches who invest in their training. Influencers who disclose partnerships and show genuine critique. Authors who admit the messy truth instead of crafting a perfect sob-story narrative. And most importantly: let’s keep a critical eye on anything we know someone got for free. I mean do you honestly believe they would say it’s an overrated crap?
More importantly, let’s stop copying routines, steps, and products that gave someone else results. What matters more is finding our own way—what works for us. Less idolization. More discernment. Let’s admire people, yes, but people who started where we are, not ten steps ahead. People whose values—not just aesthetics—mirror our own.
Because at the end of the day, to put it in manifestation terms: where attention goes, energy flows. And where energy flows? Money follows. Do you really want your energy funding someone else’s illusion—or fueling your own growth?