I woke up to news of the 2017 Las Vegas shootings from my Airbnb in Lower Merion, before a talk at Villanova and a brand trip. There were already enough thoughts and prayers, so I posted a photo of my travel-friendly oatmeal bowl. I didn’t think much of it until, within minutes, someone commented: “People are dead and you’re posting about oatmeal?” Around this time, online outrage and political activism was only gaining momentum. Suddenly, there was an expectation that wellness influencers—or really, all influencers—not just care, but publicly perform that they were on the right side of history. Followers expected this from us. We didn’t realize it then, but soon, we’d be expected to be well-versed in any and all crises within hours of them happening. I deleted the oatmeal photo and spent hours researching gun laws and nonprofits. I posted a long caption about how I was feeling and what I’d learned. Did it actually move the needle? I don’t know. But I was flooded with “thank you for speaking up” comments, so I felt validated. People wanted to know where you stood, even if it was just for show. It didn’t matter whether it was genuine or not. They just wanted to see their influencers reflect their own beliefs back to them. The pressures to be political, and so many more influencer experiences, are in my influencer memoir, If You Don’t Like This, I Will Die, out now with @simonbooks #ifyoudontlikethisiwilldie #memoir #leefromamerica #influencerculture #visibilityfatigue #socialmediafatigue