Catherine Kwon
Last week, I was in the Branford dining hall when a girl asked me, “Are you at-clar-dot-tee-ex-en??”
To be fair, I did the same thing to Nathan Chen when I was a freshman. And honestly, being able to approach strangers is an admirable trait. Still, it was strange to have my whole identity distilled into eight characters. It’s almost as if @clar.txn exists as its own entity, whereas I’m just Clarissa, a girl from Nebraska.
For context, I started making reels this past summer documenting my solo backpacking journey through Southeast Asia. But it was never my intention to become “a travel influencer,” a term I still resist. People have been suggesting for years that I start making vlogs or a YouTube channel, but I always imagined it would feel “fake” to be a clout chaser.
All that changed when I was in Vietnam. I became friends with a TikToker — shoutout Maya — in my hostel, who told me that she doesn’t post for likes or comments, but rather, as a documentation of her youth so she has something to look back on when she’s old. Maya convinced me that because I already have over 17,000 photos and videos in my camera roll, why not share it online for curious friends? Besides, I needed a silly goofy activity to occupy myself with during layovers.
Suddenly, thousands of people watched my silly goofy videos and asked for advice. There is never a quiet moment in my head. Found an aesthetic hiking trail? I have to geotag it. Ate a delicious cockroach at the street market? Let me post a food spread. Bar crawl with a new friend? The whole world has to know.
It’s an addiction — I can’t stop traveling, and I can’t stop posting about it.
Even back at Yale, influencing is a subtle vortex — the more I share, the more I feel like I’m getting sucked in.
I have this travel column now, which probably wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t started being overly public on the internet. I recently got added to a “Content Creators Club” on Slack, where young adult women exchange tips on marketing yourself as a brand. Through Discord, I was scouted to download TikTok’s newest lifestyle app for “student wellness” posts.
I’m not exactly resisting any of this. I guess the “influencer phase” has just taken on a larger role in my life than I initially expected. I never would’ve called myself a “traveler” before this summer, but now, with evidence of my adventures online, it’s sort of shaped my identity as a backpacker with the lofty goal of visiting every country.
Realistically, I don’t expect anyone to actually pick up a backpack and leave, just because some girl told them to. The nomad life is exhausting, and it’s definitely not for everyone. We are all meant to go at our own paces.
So why do I post? Because it’s fun! It allows me to stay connected with my friends, and meet equally-inspiring people from all over the world.
At my core, I don’t think this stint into influencing has changed who I am at all. Like Maya said, it’s a digital diary, of sorts. I love travel, and I have always loved travel. The only difference now is that thousands of strangers are following along with my journey — and that’s comforting to know when I’m by myself.