Dear Wannabe Diary,

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: why I’ve decided to stay hidden. I mean, not totally invisible, but close enough to make Clark Kent’s glasses look like a high-effort disguise.

The big reason? Work. Specifically, those lovely little clauses in my contract that basically say, “Thou shalt not compete, even accidentally.” Now, let’s be clear—this blog and my side hustles are definitely not competition. My current job involves selling supplements and fitness programs, while my side gigs barely scrape together a grand a month. Not exactly threatening their millions. But try explaining that to management.

God forbid they’d think I’m using their knowledge to fuel my little projects—even if most of that knowledge came from my own sweat, tears, and late-night Googling sessions. And let’s be honest, their training barely covered the basics. If I’ve learned anything extra, it’s because I wanted to, often on my own time. But nah, in their eyes, I’d be Public Enemy #1 if I so much as sneezed in the same niche.

Also… let’s talk about the climate at work. Toxic? Oh, you bet.

The Dream Job That Died

When I joined this company three years ago, it felt like I hit the jackpot. After surviving my previous job—which was less “job” and more “medieval torture”—this was heaven. The pay wasn’t spectacular, but it beat the minimum-wage nightmare I’d left behind. Plus, I could work 100% from home, and the vibe was super chill: no clock-watching, just “get it done” energy. Honestly, a unicorn in corporate land.

But then… the big bucks started rolling in, and the founders decided to sell half the company to an investment firm. Cue the doom music. Suddenly, it wasn’t about helping people anymore. It was about squeezing every last euro out of every product. Our once-quality supplements—formulated with help from actual doctors—became overpriced garbage. Instead of focusing on real solutions to genuine health problems, we pivoted to cheap fat burners and water-out supplements that everyone knows don’t work. Not just one fat burner, mind you—oh no, we went full tilt with dozens of nearly identical, ineffective products targeting every body part imaginable: belly fat burner, day fat burner, night fat burner, and the list goes on. And whose brilliant idea was this, you ask? Our so-called savior manager, Mr. Big Paycheck. Rumor has it the higher-ups are already courting exit deals for themselves, focusing more on maximizing short-term profits than helping people—or even maintaining the company’s reputation. Naturally, this guy doubled down on their vision: endless fat burners, all bark, no bite, and barely distinguishable from drugstore knockoffs.

Maybe I’m being harsh, but let’s be real—they’re not magic pills, and they’re definitely not unique. It’s all about money, money, money with this crew, and when things didn’t go exactly to plan, the pressure on the team only skyrocketed. Everyone’s tense, morale is in free fall, and the whole setup reeks of desperation to push profits before cashing out. And then, in waltzed this guy, so-called Mr. Big Paycheck, armed with big paychecks and an even bigger ego, determined to double down on this strategy like it was a golden ticket.

Enter Captain Chaos

This guy. Oh, this guy. Rumor has it his salary is in the 20,000 EUR/month range—not confirmed, but hey, it checks out. Good for him, I guess. Except he’s dragging us all down in the process. Instead of adapting to the company’s vision, he’s forcing everyone to play by his rules, which… spoiler alert… don’t work here. And let’s not even get into his “advice” on digital marketing, where he’s clearly out of his depth. When someone who barely understands your job starts micromanaging, it’s like…

“Bro, sit down. Your 20K is showing, and it’s embarrassing.”

Of course, his genius plan involves piling more pressure on the rest of us. Meanwhile, the team’s morale is sinking faster than my motivation at 6 a.m. Honestly, this is what pushed me to the brink of burnout—but that’s a story for another day.

The Real Reason I Stay Anonymous

Beyond the corporate nonsense, there’s another, more personal reason I’m not ready to show my face: I’m insecure as hell. I’ve spent years worrying about what people think, and I’m terrified of failing publicly. Growing up, I always felt judged, and it’s a hard habit to shake. Even now, the idea of someone I know stumbling across this blog makes me want to dig a hole and hide in it.

So yeah, every side hustle I’ve tried so far has been anonymous. Partly because I’m self-conscious, but also because people here… well, let’s just say we’re not exactly known for cheering each other on. If I failed, I could already picture the smug looks and whispered “I told you so’s” from people who’ve done nothing but sit on their asses.

But maybe that’s the real challenge for me—getting over this fear of judgment. Maybe I’ll set a goal: when I hit 1 million followers on TikTok and Instagram and quit my job, I’ll finally reveal myself. Or who knows? Maybe I’ll grow some courage before then.

For now, though? This wig and sunglasses combo will do just fine. Call it my Clark Kent starter pack.

Signing off for now,
Your wannabe incognito badass
(still figuring it out, one anonymous post at a time)