I Left TikTok

And no, I don’t regret it.

Me in my happy place - Loiza, Puerto Rico

Deep breath…

Last week, I made the decision to officially delete my Mama Goddess Queen Woman account on TikTok.

316,000 followers.
Four years.
Built organically.

And yes, there was a time when it was thrilling.

Video after video, I spoke from wherever I was standing emotionally that day. Sometimes it was personal experience. Sometimes it was intuition. Sometimes it was simply naming what I knew was already stirring inside my students and clients. And women responded. Loudly. Deeply.

They felt seen.
They felt permission.
They moved their bodies differently.
They questioned relationships.
They left jobs.
They said the hard thing out loud.
They came home to themselves.

That part was beautiful.

What made it even more rare was that it happened without pay-to-play games. No perfect posting windows. No trend hopping. No begging an algorithm to like me. People simply responded because something in them recognized something in me.

And then the persona arrived.

Mama Goddess Queen Woman.

The very first video I posted that went “viral” had a sharp, no-nonsense energy. That was just my mood that day. Then I did another. And another. My tone shifted depending on where I actually was emotionally—but what the audience latched onto was the nurturing part of me. Then I started a video with those 4 words and it changed everything.

Mama Goddess Queen Woman became…

The cheerleader.
The soft place to land.
The woman who could see everyone else’s gifts with crystal clarity.

That part of me is real. Deeply real.

But it is not all of me.

I am a full, dimensional, fully realized woman. I have bad days. I get angry. I curse. I doubt myself. I go quiet. I go feral. I get goofy. I try things and don’t always say them perfectly. I am practicing what I preach—still.

One comment stopped me cold:

“I can’t imagine you needing affirmations.”

As if I were some serene, unshakable being whose confidence had never cracked.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

What quietly became one of the hardest things was this unspoken pressure:
that only one version of me was acceptable.

If I showed up angry.
If I cursed the way I actually curse.
If I slipped into my weird voices and accents.
If I revealed another side of myself—
I felt it wouldn’t land. Or worse, it wouldn’t be allowed.

It showed up in other ways too.

Women who followed me for inspiration would be confused when they saw me dancing sensually—slinking across the floor, shedding layers, expressing sexual energy—like it couldn’t possibly coexist with the Mother Nature / Queen archetype they had placed me in.

As if softness and erotic power were mutually exclusive.
As if a woman who nurtures can’t also desire.
As if wisdom must be sexless to be trustworthy.

So I stopped going on.

Not dramatically. Quietly.

I stopped because I was overwhelmed. Because I was dealing with a separation and a new relationship that was breaking me down all while I felt the unspoken responsibility to respond to every comment, every DM, every confession from strangers seeking comfort—while being painfully aware of my actual human capacity.

And early last year, when they started threatening to take the app down, something clicked. I wasn’t happy there anymore.

I didn’t want a platform that big.
I didn’t want to perform intimacy.
I didn’t want to fight an algorithm for visibility.

I wanted something truer. Smaller. More honest.

I don’t trust who owns TikTok. I don’t fully trust Instagram either, if we’re being real—but right now, I’m choosing the slow work of chipping away, one step at a time, toward what feels like the lesser evil.

What I know for sure is this:

I’m longing for a time before social media.

When word of mouth brought me clients.
When women came because they experienced the work—felt it in their bodies—and passed it on.

And still—let me be clear.

There are things I will always be grateful for.

The women I met.
The connections formed.
The students I reached all over the world through online classes.

That only happened because of TikTok.

And I honor that chapter.

But I feel lighter now.
And I love that for myself.

I never asked to be a leader.
Or a savior.
Or a mentor on a pedestal.

I was an artist.
A creative soul.
A woman who happened to be good at seeing the light in others.

I’m excited to find the artist in me again.

And this time—
without a persona.

Just me

~ Anjua