I need to be honest with you about something I’ve been noticing.

As someone who creates content about organizing and home life, I’m part of an industry that’s become a non-stop sales machine. Everywhere you turn right now, someone is trying to sell you something. Gift guides, holiday hauls, must-have products, limited-time deals. It’s relentless, and frankly, it’s starting to feel a little tone-deaf.

Because here’s what I’m seeing in real life, away from the perfectly curated Instagram feeds: people are struggling. Gas prices are high. Grocery bills are shocking. Medical costs keep rising. And yet, the message we’re getting bombarded with is buy more, spend more, give more.

The disconnect between what I’m seeing online and what I’m hearing from real people in real homes has never felt wider. And I think it’s time we chat about it.

The Vibe Shift We Need to Acknowledge

 

To be really honest, the energy I’m picking up across social media right now feels… off. There’s an ick factor I can’t ignore anymore. And I’ve been overthinking my posting cadence to the point I’ve actually been pretty quiet.

Maybe it’s just my algorithm??

Now, before you think I’m being a complete Grinch or depressed Debbie Downer about the holidays—I’m not. I promise! There’s so much fun, lighthearted content out there. There are genuinely creative ideas from talented creators. I’ve seen beautiful holiday traditions shared, heartwarming stories, and clever DIY projects that inspire. Those feel-good posts have been crossing my radar too, and I love them.

Social media can be a source of joy, inspiration, and genuine connection. I don’t want to downplay the positives that come from scrolling and discovering new ideas.

But there’s also this other current running through it all right now that’s leaving me feeling unsettled.

Everything feels so salesy. So performative. So detached from reality. Like many content creators are living in a completely different world than the one most people are experiencing right now.

I see influencers doing massive gift hauls. I see perfectly styled holiday tablescapes that probably cost more than some families’ monthly grocery budgets. I see “affordable” gift guides where “affordable” means $50-75 per item. I see content that treats shopping like entertainment, like the ability to spend freely is something everyone has access to.

And look—I get it. Content creation is a business. Influencers make money when people buy things. The algorithm rewards certain types of content. I understand the mechanics of how this all works because I’m part of it.

But we’ve crossed a line somewhere. We’ve gone from “here’s something I genuinely love and think you might enjoy” to “here’s everything I can possibly link because more clicks equals more money.”

The authenticity that used to be there has gotten muddied. The genuine desire to help people sometimes gets lost in the noise.

And here’s what concerns me most: I know so many people come to social media to scroll and escape. To take a break from whatever they’re dealing with in real life. Maybe you’ve had a hard day at work. Maybe you’re worried about bills. Maybe you’re just tired and need a mental break. Maybe you can’t sleep and finally throw in the towel, roll over, grab your phone and scroll. That’s completely valid and understandable.

Social media can be that escape—the funny videos, the beautiful inspiration, the creative ideas. But I worry that for some people right now, certain types of content are actually making things worse.

When you’re stressed about money and everywhere you look someone is showing off their latest Target haul… when you’re trying to figure out how to afford gifts this year and your feed is full of elaborate gift guides… when you’re barely scraping by and you see influencers treating $200 like pocket change… it can amplify those anxious or overwhelmed feelings instead of providing the lighthearted break you were looking for.

It can make you feel like you’re failing. Like everyone else has it together except you. Like you’re the only one struggling.

But here’s the truth: you’re not alone. Not even close.

You Have Permission to Protect Yourself

 

I want you to know something: you have permission to be discerning about who you follow and what you allow into your feed.

If someone’s content consistently makes you feel “less than”—unfollow or mute.

If seeing someone’s shopping hauls triggers anxiety about what you can’t afford—unfollow or mute.

If a creator’s lifestyle feels so disconnected from your reality that it makes you feel worse instead of better—unfollow or mute.

Your mental health matters more. Your peace of mind is more important than staying subscribed to content that hurts you.

And to be clear: this isn’t about resenting people who have money or who live differently than you do. This is about recognizing what serves you and what doesn’t. What lifts you up versus what weighs you down.

Social media should add something positive to your life—whether that’s inspiration, laughter, connection, education, or ideas. If it’s not doing that, you get to change what you consume.

For me personally, I have a lot of people who I adore muted. I have personal reasons for this during this time of year. Christmas can be hard for me for several reasons that I’ll keep to myself for now.

What I Want This Space to Be

 

I want this space—my blog, my social media, my content—to be different.

I want it to be a place where you can come for comfort. And yes, for fun ideas and inspiration too—but the kind that’s grounded in reality.

Not more pressure. Not more selling. Not more content that makes you feel bad about what you don’t have. Or can’t afford.

Just honest conversation about living intentionally in a world that’s constantly telling us we need more.

Yes, I share organizing products and ideas. Yes, I make affiliate income. Yes, I work with brands (rarely! … more on my approach to these as we get into 2026.). I’m not going to pretend I don’t participate in the content economy.

But I want to do it differently. I want to do it from a place of genuine helpfulness, not just sales tactics. I want to recommend things that actually work because I’ve tested them in real client homes, not because they photograph well or have a high commission rate.

And right now, in this moment, what I think people need isn’t another product recommendation. It’s permission. It’s validation. It’s someone saying “I see you, I hear you, and what you’re feeling is real.”

How We Got Here (And How It All Changed)

 

I started my blog in 2010. That puts me in a pretty unique position because I’ve watched this entire industry transform—and not always for the better.

When I first started blogging, it was about storytelling. It was personal. We shared our lives, our struggles, our real homes with their real messes. Yes, we talked about products we loved, but it came from a place of genuine experience and wanting to help.

There was a community feel to it. We were real people sharing real life with other real people.

Somewhere along the way, that shifted. Blogging and content creation became an industry. A sales funnel. A machine designed to convert every scroll into a purchase.

The platforms changed. Instagram went from chronological feeds to algorithms that prioritize engagement at any cost. TikTok exploded and suddenly everyone needed to be creating viral content. Pinterest became a shopping platform. Everything became about metrics, growth, monetization.

And the content changed with it.

Instead of “here’s what worked in my home,” it became “buy these 47 things.”

Instead of “let me tell you a story,” it became “swipe up to shop.”

Instead of connection, it became transaction.

I’m not romanticizing the old days—well, sort of…I do miss them. There were plenty of problems back then too. But something real was lost in this transition. Something human.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: I’m part of that machine. I share organizing products. I work with brands. I make affiliate income when you buy things I recommend.

But I’m also a professional organizer who has been working in real people’s homes since 2014. And that gives me a perspective that a lot of content creators simply don’t have.

What I Actually See in People’s Homes

 

When I walk into a client’s home for an organizing project, I see the aftermath of all that consumption. I see the real impact of the content machine. I see:

• The organizing products that were supposed to solve everything but actually added to the clutter
• Duplicate items because people forgot what they already had
• Gifts that were well-intentioned but completely wrong for the recipient’s actual life
• Products that looked perfect on Instagram but fell apart after a month of real-world use
• Trendy items that don’t actually function well in real, lived-in homes
• Stuff that’s headed to donation bins or, worse, landfills

I’ve seen the $200 acrylic organizers that crack within a year. The “aesthetic” storage that doesn’t actually hold what it needs to hold. The viral products that work great for one specific use case but are useless for 90% of people.

I’ve seen so many products that were purchased because an influencer said “you need this” when the person absolutely did not need it.

And yes, I recommend products on my blog and social media. But I’m incredibly choosy about what I share because I know what works and what doesn’t. I test things in real client homes, not just in my own perfectly styled space for a photo shoot. I think about durability, function, value, and whether something will actually improve someone’s daily life.

Still, I know my messaging can get looped in with the bigger machine—the one I’m actively trying not to be part of. It’s a tension I think about constantly. How do I run a business that includes product recommendations while not contributing to the overconsumption problem I see every day in my organizing work?

I don’t have perfect answers. But I do know that awareness and intention matter.

The Cycle I See Every Single Year

 

Here’s the thing that really strikes me, especially right now: Today is December 7th. Christmas is just a few weeks away.

In the blink of an eye, it’ll be January. And here’s what I know is coming—it happens like clockwork:

The exact same influencers who are pushing gift guides and holiday shopping content right now will pivot to decluttering. “New year, new you! Time to get organized! Let’s purge all that holiday clutter! Here are the organizing products you need to buy to organize all the stuff you just bought!”

And people will be packing up all the holiday decorations, looking around at everything that came into their homes over the last few weeks, and the reality will sink in: Did we really need all of this stuff in the first place?

Do you see the cycle? Buy stuff in December, buy more stuff in January to organize the stuff you just bought, then buy more stuff throughout the year until next December when you do it all over again.

I see this cycle play out in my business every single year. Quarter one is always one of our busiest seasons. We spend weeks helping clients deal with the overflow from the holidays—gifts they didn’t need, duplicates of things they already had, stuff that doesn’t fit their homes or their lives.

And I have to ask: what if we just… didn’t do this to ourselves?

What if we didn’t buy so much in December that we need to spend January recovering from it?

What if we approached the holidays differently from the start?

The Reality I’m Seeing Right Now

 

Here’s something else I’m noticing, and it’s part of why I felt so compelled to write this post:

People want help getting their homes organized, but they can’t always afford our full-service organizing projects. The financial pressure is real, and it’s increasing.

I’m hearing from more people who are struggling. Who want to make changes in their homes but can’t justify the cost of hiring professional help. Who are trying to do it themselves but feel overwhelmed.

That’s actually why we’re making changes to our service offerings in 2026. We’re adding more lightweight, more affordable options because we see the pain point—families who want to get things done at home but can’t necessarily afford our heavy-lifting, full-project pricing.

This isn’t just about organizing services, though. It’s about a bigger shift I’m seeing in how people are approaching their homes, their lives, their spending.

People are tired. They’re stretched thin financially. They’re stressed about rising costs for everything from groceries to healthcare. And they’re starting to question whether all this stuff is actually making them happier.

The answer, in case you’re wondering, is usually no.

It Doesn’t Have to Be This Way

 

I’m not here to tell you how to celebrate your holidays or judge anyone’s gift-giving traditions. Every family is different, and what works for one household won’t work for another.

If you love decorating and gift-giving and going all out for the holidays—and you can afford to do so without stress—that’s wonderful! Truly. I’m not trying to take away anyone’s joy.

But I do want you to know that you have permission to do things differently if that’s what you need.

You don’t have to max out credit cards to prove you love someone.

You don’t have to buy gifts for every single person in your life.

You don’t have to participate in the consumption Olympics just because social media makes it look like everyone else is.

You don’t have to keep up with content creators whose financial reality is completely different from yours.

You don’t have to feel guilty for scaling back, for doing less, for choosing experiences over things.

You don’t have to apologize for setting boundaries around spending.

What Actually Matters

 

In all my years of working in people’s homes, you know what I’ve never heard someone say? “I wish we’d bought more stuff that year.”

What I do hear people say:

• “I wish we’d spent more time together”
• “I miss those simple Sunday dinners we used to have”
• “Remember when we used to just hang out without being on our phones?”
• “The best memories are from when we didn’t have much money and just enjoyed being together”
• “I don’t even remember most of the gifts, but I remember the experiences”

The gifts people remember aren’t usually the expensive ones. They’re not the trendy ones. They’re not the ones that looked perfect in an Instagram flat lay.

They’re the thoughtful ones. The ones that required time and attention rather than just a credit card swipe. The ones that showed someone really saw them and knew them.

Sometimes they’re not even physical gifts at all. Sometimes the most meaningful gift is time spent together, help offered when it was needed, presence during difficult moments.

The Real Gift

 

If you’re feeling the financial pressure of the holidays right now, I want you to know you’re not alone. If you’re looking at your budget and feeling stressed about how to make it all work, that’s real and valid.

If you’re feeling anxious scrolling through social media watching everyone else seem to have it all figured out, please know that what you’re seeing isn’t the full picture. It’s curated. It’s filtered. And often, it’s not even real.

And if you’re wondering whether it’s okay to scale back, to do things more simply, to focus on presence over presents—the answer is yes. A thousand times yes.

The most organized homes I work in aren’t the ones with the best storage solutions or the most perfectly styled spaces. They’re the homes where what comes in aligns with the family’s actual values and reality. Where people are intentional about what they bring into their space and their lives. Where the focus is on what matters rather than what looks good online.

I’ve been in this industry long enough to see how much it’s changed. I’ve watched blogging go from storytelling to sales machines. I’ve seen social media shift from connection to consumption. I’ve witnessed the impact of overconsumption in countless homes I’ve organized.

And I think there’s room for something different—for authenticity, for storytelling, for actually helping people instead of just selling to them.

This holiday season, maybe the best gift we can give ourselves is permission to stop trying to keep up with an impossible standard that doesn’t even make us happy.

Maybe the best gift is choosing what’s real over what looks good on Instagram.

Maybe the best gift is presence instead of presents.

With Christmas just a few weeks away, there’s still time to approach this season differently. There’s still time to choose what really matters.

I’d love to hear from you:

• Have you felt the pressure to spend more than you’re comfortable with during the holidays?
• What’s your relationship with social media right now? Is it adding to your life or creating more stress?
• What are some meaningful, non-material gifts you’ve given or received that really stuck with you?

Let’s have a real conversation in the comments. This is a safe space for honesty.

xo,

Sam