We hear it all the time: “Reinvent yourself.” As if the only way to move forward is to become someone else entirely. But I want to offer a softer truth—one that feels more real to me: you don’t need a reinvention. You just need a return.
A return to your rhythm.
A return to your voice.
A return to what felt like you before life got too loud.
Let me tell you how I figured that out.
TikTok used to be a fun space for me. I’d talk about books, about my podcast, about my upcoming novel The Ordinary Bruja. But then life got hectic—and when I say hectic, I mean chaotic-spiraling-energy-suck hectic. Between parenting, pets, responsibilities, and trying to stay emotionally afloat, I just didn’t have it in me. I didn’t want to be on camera. I didn’t have the creative energy to even think of what to say. And if I’m being honest, I felt disconnected from myself.
So I stepped away.
I didn’t announce a break. I didn’t delete the app. I just… didn’t post.
And when things calmed down—when I had more space in my schedule and could finally breathe again—I didn’t come back with a dramatic announcement or apology. Not because I think there’s anything wrong with doing that (honestly, shoutout to everyone who’s honest about needing space), but because I didn’t have the energy to perform a comeback. I just had the energy to begin again.
So I did.
One day, I opened the app and made a video about a book I was reading. That was it. No elaborate explanation. Just, “Hey, let me tell you about this.” And then I kept talking. I talked about The Ordinary Bruja. I talked about the themes, the characters, the process. I showed up—not for reinvention, but for reconnection.
And people noticed. Some of my mutuals left sweet comments like “It’s so nice to see you again.” And you know what I said?
“It’s nice to be back.”
Not I’m new or I’m different—but back. Because I wasn’t becoming someone else. I was coming home to myself.
That shift in mindset changed everything. I stopped overthinking how to return. I stopped worrying about whether I should rebrand or “start fresh.” I didn’t need a grand plan. I just needed to put my energy into doing rather than doubting.
And as I kept posting, I started learning. I realized I didn’t want to juggle three different TikTok profiles for my writing, podcasting, and pet rescue content. That might work for some people—but not for me. My time is limited, and I don’t want to waste energy maintaining multiple versions of myself. I want one account that feels like me. The full me—messy, multifaceted, and always evolving.
Now, I focus on showing up with intention.
I post when I can.
I schedule when I know I’ll be busy.
I talk about my rescued dogs, my love for books, what I’m writing, what I’m reading, and all the beautiful chaos in between.
And I sprinkle in updates about The Ordinary Bruja because this book matters to me. It’s a love letter to identity, to self-forgiveness, to magic. And I want people to discover it, not because I forced it into an algorithm, but because I shared it from the heart.
The Ordinary Bruja: Book One of Las Cerradoras Series – Johanny Ortega
Marisol Espinal has spent her life trying to disappear from her family’s whispers of magic, from the shame of not belonging, from the truth she refuses to face. She’s always wanted to be someone else: confident, capable, extraordinary.
But when strange visions, flickering shadows, and warnings written in her mother’s hand begin to stalk her, Marisol is forced to confront her deepest fear: what if she isn’t extraordinary at all? What if she’s painfully ordinary?
Yet Hallowthorn Hill doesn’t call to just anyone. And the more Marisol resists, the stronger its pull becomes. The past she’s buried claws its way back, and something in the mist is watching—waiting for her to remember.
If Marisol cannot face the truth about who she is and where she comes from, the same darkness that destroyed her ancestors will claim her, too.
Somewhere in the shadows, something knows her name.
And it’s time for Marisol to learn why.
If you’re reading this and feeling like you need to “start over” or “reinvent” yourself to be creative again, I want you to know: You don’t.
You don’t have to perform your return. You don’t have to show up with all the answers. You don’t have to be a brand-new person with a brand-new plan. You can simply return.
Return to what lit you up.
Return to what made you smile.
Return to your own voice, your own rhythm, your own truth.
Even if your return is quiet, it’s still powerful.




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