The High After the Post… and the Crash That Follows

It happens almost every time.

I post something beautiful—maybe something sensual, maybe something vulnerable, maybe something that just feels like me—and in the moments that follow, I feel amazing. Euphoric, even. Like I’m floating.

My heart races, I check the comments, I feel the warmth of connection. People see me, respond to me, reflect something back. That feedback loop of likes, DMs, and kind words is a rush—a hit of validation that lands straight in the soul.

But then…

The crash.

It doesn’t happen right away. It sneaks in, soft at first. Maybe it starts with a lull in notifications. Maybe I realize someone I hoped would say something… hasn’t. Or maybe it’s just the quiet. And suddenly, I feel it: that drop.

The dopamine is gone. The adrenaline fades. And what’s left is this strange hollowness.

I start to overthink. Was that caption too much? Did I share too openly? Was the image too sexy? Not sexy enough? I start scrolling again—not to connect, but to cope.

This is the part no one really talks about. That confusing space between the beauty of self-expression and the vulnerability that comes with being truly seen.

But I’ve learned to name it now: It’s the crash.

It’s not a sign that I shouldn’t have shared. It’s not a sign that what I posted wasn’t worth it. It’s just chemistry. The rise and fall of my nervous system trying to make sense of showing up so fully.

So now, when the crash comes, I try to be gentler with myself. I step away. I breathe. I remind myself that I didn’t post for the algorithm—I posted for me. And that is still sacred.

If you’ve ever felt this way too—if you’ve ever posted something you loved and then felt a little lost afterward—you are not broken.

You’re human.

Sensitive. Brave. And deeply, beautifully alive.

Love, Rissa

💜