I’ve been Why Hi Ty since about 1998. Bless those AIM days. My log in names, my social media from the beginning of social media. I have IRL friends who greet me with “why hi, ty!” I am Why hi Ty.
I like it. It’s me.
So why have I been trying damnedest to be something else?
At the risk of dating myself back into the covered wagon days, when I first started blogging (on Xanga, mind you), “branding” wasn’t a thing. You didn’t have a brand; you had a blog. No connective color schemes, no logos, no pretty media kits, just you and a blinking cursor. Blogging wasn’t really a business then the way it is now, and while I won’t go into the dangers of monetizing a hobby here (though Lord know *surprise* I got thoughts), people exposed more of themselves because the choice to do so wasn’t a business decision. Being yourself and voicing your opinion wasn’t weighed against P&L.
On the other hand, maybe I’m just a jelly hater because I’ve loved writing since I could write, and I’d kill for it to be a full-time job. I’d love nothing more than to write, write, write with reckless abandon.
Some people can successfully merge the two — most either can’t, or they simply don’t. I hate that for women, we’re told that we can have a brain, or we can have a brand. I think there are women who have done it — I think Rachel Parcell is one hell of a businesswoman, and who doesn’t know Pink Peonies? The Skinny Confidential is another — her branding is fucking spectacular, and she manages to talk about everything from makeup to babies to sex to her support of Black Lives Matter. They have turned their identities into something bigger. I want that for myself, but it’s time I recognized what my identity actually is
Once, I was Arkansassy (and I was). Then I was Tyler Lucille (and I am). But my identity has always been Why Hi Ty.
So to Why Hi Ty I return.