From In-House Creative to Content Strategist: My Real Story

I'll be honest about it, I'm not a math person. Numbers? Not really my thing, I still count on my fingers too. BUT, I'll always have a place in my heart for my 8th grade math teacher.

peep the throwback highschool art class photo. Aw, I miss that camera.

Back in the day… I joined a friend who wanted to check out his Photography Club. Turns out, it wasn't really for her. It was for me. I hadn’t put the camera down since.

It happens fast once you actually have a camera in your hands.

Suddenly everything is worth pointing it at, you're just walking around snapping whatever grabs you, no real plan behind any of it. But you learn something almost immediately: what you choose to capture does something to whoever's looking at it. That's when you realize there's a whole psychology sitting inside all of it, whether you went looking for it or not.

I've always had a deep fascination with creative psychology, and looking back, it showed up everywhere: Constantly testing out different ways to write and create, trying on different styles just to see what happened… I even took college marketing classes while in high school. I deeply enjoyed covers of songs in genres nowhere near the original. All of it circled the same questions: why people do what they do, what makes someone tick, what they're actually chasing under the thing they say they're chasing, and how can we all relate to the same ideas? It's the same reason I can disappear into true crime documentaries for an entire evening and not notice the time. Different subject, same obsession.

That's probably why covers hooked me the way they did, when someone takes a song that already exists and completely reinvents it in a new genre, or their own voice. I've always been a genre junkie, jumping from one sound to a totally different one and finding something to genuinely love in each of them, and a good cover is basically that same instinct turned into a song. It takes something that belonged to one world and hands it to someone standing in a completely different one, and suddenly it means the same thing to them too.

It was never really about the performance for me. It was more like enjoying a translation, taking something and saying it in a way someone else could suddenly understand. Sometimes we don't even realize we hold the same values until they show up in a form we recognize. The song stays the same underneath; it's just presented differently, and you still feel every word of it. Finding what actually connects two people who'd otherwise have nothing in common, except now they've got this one song, this one feeling, sitting in the room between them.

That thread runs through everything I do and believe in.

After college, I landed my first real creative role in-house, and that's where I first noticed how inefficiently a lot of businesses ran their in-house creative teams. People overworked for no real reason, stretched thin doing more than they needed to, and still somehow never actually listened to when it counted. I filed that away without knowing what to do with it yet.

Around then I also tried to start FroMotion, version one of it, before I really understood what I was building. Then I got injured, and building anything, let alone a business, went out the window for a while.

To heal and still bring in an income, I worked retail. That's where I actually got to test my ideas about connection against real life, dealing with customers in real time and watching how it played out, how it shaped the way people responded to a business one way or another.

Slowly I found my way back into creative work, in-house again for a stretch. But by then I'd seen both sides clearly. What it actually felt like to work inside an inefficient creative team, and what real connection with people looked like one interaction at a time. That's when I finally went all in on FroMotion, for good.

So here's the circle, because there is one...

The camera, the music, the psychology of it all, the years bouncing between in-house work and starting over. None of it was ever really about the artwork. It was about what's underneath them. The reason someone picked up the thing they picked up in the first place, before it became a business, before content calendars and posting pressure buried it somewhere they couldn't find it anymore.

That's the actual work now. It's not just helping individual people find their way back to why they started. It's about helping the teams around them too, teaching businesses how to actually run creative efficiently instead of grinding people down and still being confused about what to create. It was never just about a prettier feed. It's about building something that lasts. A real legacy. A real community made of real people, not just a big number.

It's easy to forget what social media was even for in the first place. But when we actually use it to connect, the same way this blog challenge is doing for me right now, it does so much more for us than any polished post ever could.

And this is also why I keep my services so specific. I want us to keep our focus on where it should be and what would be the most impactful when building a community through visuals.

Now I actually want to hear from you. What's your relationship with social content, and why do you use it the way you do? Has it ever led you somewhere real, to an actual community? And because I have to ask: what's your favorite kind of music?

If any of this has you thinking you might want to try something like it yourself, the Ultimate Blog Challenge is still open all month. Anyone can jump in and start posting daily right alongside the rest of us. You can check it out at ultimateblogchallenge.com.

And if you want to keep this conversation going, come explore fromotion.com or book a chat with me. Talking through ideas with people is genuinely my favorite part of this whole thing.