Faithful Marketing in a World Obsessed with Influence

Influence.

It’s the word that dominates our feeds, our conversations, and even our dreams. Whether you are a creator, a brand, or an entrepreneur, the pressure to “make it” almost always comes down to numbers: how many followers, how many likes, how much engagement, how viral did you go?

The digital age has turned influence into an idol. It promises validation, power, and worth. But once you achieve it, if you ever do, you realize the promise was empty. Influence without faithfulness leaves you restless and hollow.

Let’s be real, we were never designed to worship influence. We were created to steward it. That is where faithful marketing begins, in recognizing that our platforms, audiences, and campaigns are not thrones for self-glory, but trusts entrusted to us by God.

This is not just another marketing strategy. It is a countercultural blueprint for creators and brands who want to honor God in a world obsessed with influence.

The Idolatry of Influence

The Bible speaks often about idolatry, about the temptation to worship created things instead of the Creator. In today’s culture, one of the loudest idols is influence.

Vanity Metrics as False Gods

Likes, diamonds, shares, and engagement rates promise meaning. They resemble a crown of achievement, yet they leave us feeling empty.

You can have 6 million likes on a post and still feel unseen when you close your phone at night. You can hit the top 10 on the leaderboard and still wonder if your work matters. Metrics fluctuate daily, viral one week and irrelevant the next. They are mist, vapor, vanity.

Scripture warns us:

“Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity.” (Ecclesiastes 1:2)

The deeper danger of vanity metrics is not just disappointment. It is misplaced identity. If we tie our worth to numbers, we will always be on a treadmill, running harder but never arriving.

The Cult of Personality

Another idol is personality. In marketing, charisma is often prized above all. Charisma gets you noticed. The magnetic voice, the bold presence, the clever one-liners. It creates buzz and sparks engagement.

But charisma without character is hollow.

We have seen it over and over again. A brand spokesperson or influencer skyrockets to fame, only to crash when their private life or unethical practices come to light. Charisma may fill a room quickly, but it cannot sustain long-term trust.

Real influence comes from integrity, honesty, courage, and consistency. Character builds trust that lasts far beyond a viral moment. Without it, your following is only as strong as your last viral spike.

Faithful marketing recognizes this truth. Charisma may attract, but character sustains.

Biblical Principles for Faithful Marketing

Faithful marketing is not only about rejecting idolatry. It is about embracing biblical principles that guide how we use influence.

Stewardship, Not Self-Glory

In my years working in the legal field with Trusts and Estates, I learned how fiduciary responsibility works. A trustee does not own the assets they manage. They are legally bound to use those resources in the best interest of the beneficiaries. If they mismanage funds or exploit them for personal gain, the law holds them accountable.

Now think about your platform. Your followers. Your audience. Your influence.

You do not own them. They are entrusted to you. You are a trustee of the influence you have been given. And just like a trustee, you are accountable, not only to your audience but ultimately to God.

This means your content, campaigns, and marketing efforts must prioritize service over self-glory. Faithful marketing does not see an audience as a fanbase to exploit but as a community to serve.

Truth Over Tactics

Deception is one of the most common shortcuts in modern marketing. We see it everywhere:

• Spliced TikTok ads where scammers use a doctor’s video to “endorse” a product they have never heard of

• Fake weight-loss transformations stolen from other accounts

• Overhyped promises that never deliver

All of it is built on lies. And all of it destroys trust.

Faithful marketing chooses truth, even when it costs. Transparency might slow growth in the short term, but it builds trust that endures. As Proverbs 12:22 says:

“Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who act faithfully are his delight.”

Truth outlasts tactics. Integrity outlasts manipulation.

Service Before Strategy

Strategy matters, but service matters more.

Too often, brands ask, “What can we do to grow?” when they should be asking, “Whose needs can we meet? Whose burdens can we help carry?”

This is the posture of Christ, who said He came not to be served but to serve (Mark 10:45). Marketing modeled after Jesus is not primarily about algorithms, aesthetics, or analytics. It is about service.

When you focus on service, your strategy becomes more effective because people feel seen, valued, and cared for.

Obedience Over Outcomes

Metrics matter, but they do not get the final word.

Faithful marketing does not ignore data; it just refuses to worship it. The ultimate question is not “Did I get the results I wanted?” but “Was I faithful with what God asked of me?”

Obedience does not always look successful in the world’s eyes. Sometimes you will post content that serves deeply but does not perform well on the surface. That is okay. God sees faithfulness in the unseen places.

A Countercultural Blueprint

If we want to escape the idolatry of influence, we need a new blueprint. One that is rooted not in trends but in timeless truth.

• Redefine Success: Stop chasing scale and start pursuing substance. Depth will always outlast reach. Faithfulness will always outweigh fame.

• Reject the Algorithm’s Worship: Algorithms can be useful tools, but they make terrible gods. Use them, but do not bow to them. Let your values, not the algorithm, determine your content.

• Resist the Spectacle: Joy, art, and creativity are beautiful, but they should never replace truth. Entertainment should enhance meaning, not overshadow it.

• Root Strategy in Scripture: Scripture offers timeless marketing principles. Honesty, patience, clarity, consistency. These will outlast every trend cycle.

This blueprint is countercultural. It will not guarantee instant virality. But it will give you something more valuable: lasting trust and eternal impact.

What Faithful Marketing Looks Like in Practice

Faithful marketing is not just theory. It changes the way you create, campaign, and connect.

For Creators

• Build community, not clout

• Prioritize long-term trust over short-term spikes

• Show integrity when no one is watching

For Brands

• Align campaigns with convictions

• Refuse manipulative tactics

• Elevate service and honesty as your brand’s true differentiators

Imagine if brands and creators alike committed to this. Marketing would not just be about products or platforms. It would be about people, service, and faithfulness.

The Call to Faithfulness

In the end, it comes down to this: influence fades, but faithfulness endures.

The followers you gain today might unfollow tomorrow. The algorithm that boosts you this month may bury you next month. The hype of virality is fleeting.

But faithfulness lasts.

Paul’s words to the Corinthians echo through every marketing campaign and every post we publish:

“It is required of stewards that they be found faithful.”
(1 Corinthians 4:2)

That is the call. Not to chase influence at any cost, but to steward it with humility, integrity, and service.

Because in a world obsessed with influence, what will set us apart is not how many people we reach, but how faithfully we serve the ones we have been given.

Finding Community on TikTok Live: The Power of Belonging Online

Protecting My Peace

I’ve always been a relatively private person. Not just the kind who avoids oversharing on social media, but the kind who thinks carefully about what parts of myself I offer to people at all. I’ve always felt that once you give a piece of yourself away, whether it’s a story, a struggle, or even just your unfiltered opinion, you can’t take it back. People can hold onto it, interpret it differently than you meant, or even use it against you. So, I learned to keep most things close to my chest.

In most digital spaces, people don’t even know my last name. I’ve built entire friendships where we recognize each other by profile pictures and emojis instead of personal details. And honestly, I liked it that way. It gave me control, a way to exist online without feeling exposed.

In person, the circle of people I truly confide in is even smaller. I’ve always believed in quality over quantity when it comes to trust. My peace is hard-earned, and protecting it isn’t just a preference. It feels like survival.

Still, there’s a loneliness that creeps in when your world is so tightly guarded. You can be surrounded by acquaintances and still feel unknown. You can scroll through endless content and still feel unseen. For me, joining online spaces was never about chasing attention. It was about chasing connection, even if I didn’t fully realize it at the time.

Over the years, I’ve joined and left multiple TikTok Live communities. Sometimes the vibe was off. Sometimes, the people felt shallow or cliquey. Sometimes I just didn’t have the energy to invest. So, I’d leave, closing the door behind me quietly, carrying my peace with me like a shield.

Then in March, something unexpected happened. I was asked to step into a new role: serving as a referee for Recapture Livestream.

At the time, I was struggling physically, emotionally, and spiritually. My body felt worn out, my mind felt scattered, and my spirit felt dim. Saying yes didn’t make sense logically, but something in me agreed before my brain could argue. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was hope. Or maybe it was just the quiet belief that sometimes saying yes to something small can open a door to something bigger.

The Role & Meeting AJ

The role was simple on paper: connect creators, watch the tournament battles, and record the wins. A clipboard job, really, except there was no clipboard, just my phone and a sense of responsibility to keep things fair. On the surface, it didn’t sound like much.

I was assigned to matches at random, often between creators I didn’t follow and sometimes had never even heard of. That meant every night was unpredictable. One minute, I’d be watching two seasoned streamers banter like best friends. Next, I’d be in the middle of an awkward matchup where the silence was so heavy it felt like I was trespassing.

On my second night, one of those creators was AJ Blencowe.

I remember the moment clearly, not because I thought it would matter, but because of how ordinary it seemed. His livestream popped up on my screen like dozens of others had before. A plain background. A face I didn’t recognize. A username I didn’t know. My first thought was almost dismissive: “Who is this kid? Never heard of him.”

There was nothing polished about his setup. His bed was in the background. The lighting was much like every other streamer’s…you know, those LED galaxy lights that everyone seems to buy off Amazon.

But then, something shifted. As the battle went on, I noticed the way his chat lit up, not just with emojis and random comments, but with genuine interaction. People weren’t just watching him. They were talking to him, with him, around him. It wasn’t a one-sided performance where the creator broadcasted and the viewers silently consumed. It was a conversation, messy and alive.

AJ didn’t act like someone trying to impress. He laughed at his own awkward jokes, rolled with the trolls, and didn’t hide when he stumbled. There was a humility there, paired with a humor that disarmed the usual tension of competition.

I didn’t know it yet, but that was the night something clicked. Not in a thunderbolt, life-changing moment kind of way. More like a spark that lingers, small enough to ignore, but steady enough to draw you back.

Something stuck. I came back again and again until his chat quietly became my community. And as much as I troll AJ, I mean it when I say he’s become like a little brother to me.

Sometimes the people you least expect end up becoming the ones you hold closest.

Which leaves me with the question I never thought I’d ask: Can you really belong in a place where people only know you through a screen?

The Myth of Real vs. Online Connection

There’s still this idea floating around that online friendships aren’t real friendships. It’s not always said outright, but it shows up in the way people roll their eyes when you mention someone you “met online,” or how older generations dismiss digital spaces as shallow, superficial, or even dangerous.

Many argue that online spaces are nothing but curated personas, filters, and highlight reels. And to be fair, the internet is full of those things. But what often gets overlooked is the other side: the messy, unpolished, unfiltered interactions that don’t make it into Instagram feeds or perfectly edited TikTok clips.

What I’ve experienced in AJ’s chat suggests otherwise. His livestream is the opposite of curated perfection. It’s messy, unpredictable, and unfiltered in the best way. People see him learning guitar and messing up chords. They see him streaming with his unmade bed in the background, bantering with Mandy mid-battle about his messy room. They see him try out a cringey dad joke that flops, only to laugh harder when the chat trolls him for it. That kind of honesty builds trust.

Community doesn’t need to be polished to be real. In fact, sometimes it’s the imperfections, the awkward silences, the corny jokes, the rough edges, that make it feel most authentic.

And the chat? It’s full of people who show up every single day, not because they’re obligated to, but because they want to. They remember the little things others said weeks ago. They celebrate each other’s wins, no matter how small, and they check in when things aren’t going so well.

That doesn’t sound fake to me. If anything, it feels more intentional because no one is forced to be there. Unlike school, work, or family obligations, digital communities like AJ’s chat are built entirely on choice.

And belonging, at its core, is built on choice.

The Power of Unexpected Online Spaces

What surprised me most was where that sense of belonging showed up. It wasn’t where I was looking. It wasn’t where I thought it should be.

For me, it didn’t come from a group chat with people I already knew, or a Discord server I joined intentionally, or even a circle of friends I had in real life. It came from something far less predictable, a random TikTok Live I stumbled into while reffing.

On my second night as referee, I didn’t even know AJ’s name yet. To me, he was just another face on the screen, another creator I’d been assigned to watch for fifteen minutes before moving on to the next.

The way AJ carried himself on camera was different. It wasn’t the overconfidence I’d seen in some streamers. It wasn’t the detached professionalism of others. Instead, there was this mix of humility and humor, like he didn’t take himself too seriously, but he took the people in his chat seriously.

And the chat mirrored that energy. They weren’t just there to throw gifts and leave. They were talking to him, laughing with him, hyping him up, trolling him in good fun. There was a rhythm to it all, like stepping into a living room full of inside jokes where somehow, you didn’t feel like an intruder.

That night, I realized something I hadn’t before: sometimes you don’t find community. Sometimes it finds you.

If I’d been searching intentionally for a “safe space,” I probably would’ve overlooked AJ’s livestream entirely. I would’ve judged it too quickly, too small, too random, too messy. But belonging doesn’t always arrive in polished packages. Sometimes it shows up disguised as an ordinary moment, a random click, a livestream you weren’t planning to watch.

AJ himself played a big part in that. He wasn’t trying to “build a community” in the corporate sense of the word. He was just showing up as himself, and that honesty set the tone. He laughed at his mistakes, admitted when he was figuring things out, and leaned into the awkward moments instead of hiding them. That kind of presence made the livestream feel less like content and more like a space.

Sometimes, community doesn’t announce itself with a welcome banner. Sometimes, it just quietly forms around the people who keep showing up.

What Belonging Looks Like in Digital Communities

Belonging online doesn’t look that different from belonging in person. In fact, the longer I’ve been part of AJ’s chat, the more I’ve realized it’s built on the same small, ordinary moments that bond people in classrooms, offices, or friend groups.

It’s in the consistency. People showing up at the same time every night like it’s part of their daily routine.

It’s in the inside jokes. Some of them so niche they wouldn’t make sense to anyone outside the chat. Like the one-liners that come from AJ’s random slip-ups, or the way the chat teases him for his not-so-successful attempts to grow facial hair.

It’s in the nicknames that stick. In AJ’s stream, regulars don’t stay just usernames for long. They get noticed, called out, teased, or given a little title that only makes sense in that space.

But belonging also shows up in subtler ways, ways that prove digital connection can carry real weight.

It’s when someone notices a regular hasn’t been around for a few days and asks, “Hey, has anyone seen them? Are they okay?”

It’s when another viewer remembers a challenge someone mentioned weeks ago and checks in on it.

It’s when the entire chat suddenly unites to hype someone up after AJ interacts with them directly, flooding the screen with encouragement until the person on the other end feels seen.

Those small gestures transform the livestream into something more than entertainment. They turn it into a space of care.

And it’s not one-sided. AJ sets the tone by showing up as himself, awkward, funny (though the dad jokes are not so funny), and genuine, and the chat responds in kind. The result is this ongoing exchange where creator and community blur together.

Those moments remind you that you’re not just another username scrolling across the screen. You’re part of something bigger. Something alive.

The Deeper Impact of Belonging Online

What happens in these spaces doesn’t just stay online. It spills over, quietly reshaping the way you move through everyday life.

Feeling seen and supported in AJ’s chat gave me something I didn’t realize I was missing: a sense of stability. But logging into his livestream and seeing familiar names pop up gave me a kind of anchor.

That consistency started to shift things in me. It gave me the confidence to speak up more, not just in livestreams, but in real-life conversations. I stopped second-guessing whether my voice mattered.

Watching AJ push himself also challenged me. He didn’t just stream when it was convenient. He showed up night after night, even when the competition was tough, even when we trolled him a little too much, even when he didn’t feel fully prepared. That kind of courage has a way of rubbing off on you. It made me ask myself: If he can show up and risk failing publicly, why am I so afraid to step out privately?

Sometimes encouragement from a stranger online gives you the courage to face life offline.

Even the simplest acts of care in the chat carried more weight than I expected. When people remembered details about my life or hyped me up in the middle of an ordinary moment, it reminded me of something essential: community isn’t about geography. It’s about presence.

That’s what AJ’s livestream taught me. Community doesn’t grow out of perfection. It grows out of presence.

Conclusion: Can You Really Belong Online?

So, can you really belong in a place where people only know you through a screen?

I used to think the answer was no. I used to believe belonging required physical presence, the ability to look someone in the eye, hear the tone of their voice without static or lag, and share space that couldn’t be minimized with the tap of a button. But I don’t believe that anymore.

Belonging isn’t about the platform. It isn’t about the distance between people or the technology that connects them. It’s about the way people show up, the way they remember, the way they care.

For me, it happened in a TikTok Live community I never expected to stay in. A place I stumbled into by accident, when I was supposed to be focused on scores and outcomes, not connection.

It’s ironic, in a way. I’ve always been a private person, protective of my peace, cautious about who I let in. Yet some of the people who have made me feel most seen in this season of life are people I’ve never met in person. (Though I did meet AJ in person after a few months.)

That’s the thing about belonging. It doesn’t always look the way you thought it would. Sometimes it’s not your lifelong friends, or your coworkers, or the people who live in your same city. Sometimes it’s a 22-year-old learning guitar on a livestream, cracking dad jokes while the chat teases him about his unmade bed. Sometimes it’s a handful of strangers who choose to show up night after night until “strangers” doesn’t feel like the right word anymore.

Belonging is not bound by location. It’s built by people.

Sometimes belonging is just one random click, one livestream, one conversation away.

Building Media That Heals: A Faith-Based Perspective on Marketing

Why Media Can Be Medicine

I believe media is more than noise on a screen. It can wound, or it can heal. It can reduce people to numbers, or it can remind them they matter.

As a Christian and as a fourth-generation Japanese American, I have seen how stories can carry loss, resilience, and hope. That is why I believe marketing is not just strategy. It is soul work. Done with love, it becomes medicine for the world.

Too often, our digital world runs on algorithms that chase speed, clicks, and virality. But when I step back, I see that marketing was never meant to be only about numbers. At its best, it is about people. It is about connection. And when it is done with care, it becomes something deeper. It becomes healing.

Healing Through Storytelling

Stories are sacred. In my family, they have always been lanterns that carry light through times of loss. As a fourth-generation Japanese American, I carry a history shaped by resilience and erasure. The annexation of the Ryukyuan Kingdom. My great-grandparents leaving home for the U.S. My grandparents being forced into Japanese internment camps during World War II. With each generation, pieces of language, culture, and tradition slipped away.

In some ways, silence was part of what I inherited. But that silence made stories even more valuable. My grandpa’s words are not just memories. They are lanterns that remind me that even when much is taken, identity can be rebuilt and dignity can be restored.

This is where my culture and my faith come together. Scripture says, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue”(Proverbs 18:21). For my family, words were survival. They helped my grandparents make sense of suffering. They helped them hold on to dignity in the camps. They gave them something to pass down.

Jesus also said, “Out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks” (Luke 6:45). In my heritage, storytelling is how the heart keeps speaking across generations. Even when practices and traditions were stripped away, the heart stayed alive in the stories. And if our hearts are full of love, light, and grace, our stories will point others to hope rather than toward destruction.

That is why, when I think about marketing, I do not only think about campaigns. I think about storytelling as healing work. Stories that heal do not manipulate. They invite. They tell people, I see you. You belong here.

We can see this today. Gold House, an Asian American collective, uses media to amplify stories in film, fashion, and business. Their work is not only about representation. It is about restoring what was lost and building solidarity through visibility.

Another example is He Gets Us, a Christian campaign that reframes the story of Jesus in ways that connect to modern struggles like loneliness and forgiveness. Whether people agree with it or not, the campaign’s strength is in telling a familiar story in a way that invites people in.

Both examples remind me of my family’s legacy. Stories, when told with intention, become lanterns. They light the way forward for brands, communities, and anyone who longs to feel seen.

3 Practical Tips for Telling Healing Stories

1. Lead With People, Not Hype
   Before you post, ask: Does this see my audience as human beings, or just numbers? Healing stories affirm dignity.

2. Do Not Be Afraid of Quiet
   Not everything has to go viral. Some of the most healing campaigns are the slower and more reflective ones. Give your audience space to feel, not just react.

3. Let Your Values Shine Through
   Whether cultural, spiritual, or ethical, your values are the heart of your story. People may forget the details, but they will remember how you made them feel.

The Faith Lens in Digital Spaces

Faith has taught me that every interaction matters. A small word can make a big difference. A smile at the grocery store. A conversation with a stranger on a plane. We do not always know when a simple moment will plant a seed in someone else’s life.

The same is true online. One comment. One thoughtful reply. One moment of honesty. That can be enough to make someone feel like they belong.

This is why I believe healing media is intentional media. It asks:

• Who might be listening right now?

• Could this bring a little light into someone’s day?

• Am I showing up with love, even here?

This is not only spiritual. It is also strategic. Gen Z and Millennials want meaning. They want brands that stand for something. They want to feel like they are part of a bigger story.

When people feel that sense of belonging, they do not just follow. They stay.

A Case Study: Patagonia’s Healing Marketing

Patagonia is one of my favorite examples. Their business is not built only on jackets and gear. It is built on belonging. Their marketing is not flashy. It is honest and sometimes even countercultural.

In 2011, they told people “Don’t Buy This Jacket.” Instead, they encouraged customers to repair what they already had. That was not just about sustainability. It was about trust.

By living out their values, Patagonia shows: We care about the planet more than profit. People respond to that because deep down, they want to be part of something bigger than a purchase. A Patagonia jacket is not just clothing. It is a piece of a mission.

That is healing media too. Not because it is religious. But because it restores dignity to both the customer and the brand. It says: You are not just a buyer. You are part of a story that matters.

Lessons for Media and Marketing Leaders

Here are three things I think media leaders and marketers can take away:

1. See People, Not Just Metrics
   Data matters, but it is not the whole story. Behind every number is a person.

2. Design for Belonging
   Do not only chase attention. Create spaces that feel warm and welcoming.

3. Lead With Love
   People may forget what you said, but they will not forget how you made them feel.

If we want to build media that heals, these are the questions that need to guide us.

A Hopeful Future for Media

As I grow in digital marketing, this is my vision. I want to help companies create content that heals, not just sells.

Screens do not have to divide us. They can carry lanterns, messages of faith, warmth, and light, that travel across the world.

When media remembers its deeper calling to connect, it does more than reach an audience.
It makes us human again.

And maybe that is what the world is really waiting for.

Do TikTok Battles Help or Hurt a Creator’s Authentic Brand?

Let’s Talk About Battles

If you’ve ever wandered onto TikTok Live, you’ve seen it. Two creators, sometimes even three or four, side by side, the timer ticking, gifts flying, and chats going wild. It feels like a digital gladiator match with stickers instead of swords. Exciting? Absolutely. Chaotic? Always.

But here’s the thing: marketing isn’t just a campaign, it’s a story.

And if I’m honest, sometimes these battles tell a great story. Other times, they feel like the story got hijacked by flashing lights and scoreboard drama. (It’s giving Hunger Games, but make it virtual.)

As a Christian, I can’t ignore this either: love gives freely. It is not manipulative, it is not a transaction, and it is not about one-upping somebody else. Scripture says it best: “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7, ESV).

So let’s unpack this together. When do TikTok battles actually help a creator’s brand, and when do they quietly chip away at authenticity?

When Battles Feel Like a Party

The Squad Comes Alive

Nothing bonds people like rallying together for a win. I have seen chats light up with laughter, emotes, and encouragement that make everyone feel like part of something bigger. (And yes, the chat sometimes goes faster than my eyes can keep up. Moderator life is not for the faint of heart.)

Picture this: your community is facing a creator with a 52-win streak. Their supporters are relentless, dropping gifts left and right. Your viewers are nervous but determined. In the last three seconds of the battle, galaxies and money guns flood your screen as some hit on the glove. The scoreboard flips in your favor: 450,495 to 442,852. Victory. Your chat explodes. Custom MVP emotes highlight the top supporters, and your battle clip ends up on Reddit. Months later, people are still reminiscing about “the night we broke the streak.” That single moment becomes part of your community’s shared identity.

📊 Research backs this up. On Twitch, users who receive a gift are 69% more likely to message other viewers and 35% more likely to message the streamer afterward. In other words, generosity creates ripple effects of engagement that strengthen relationships within a community (American Marketing Association).

The win matters, but the bond matters more. Victories like these are less about the scoreboard and more about the sense of “we did this together.”

New People Pull Up to the Table

TikTok’s algorithm rewards activity, and battles generate activity by the bucketload. Every like, comment, and gift pushes your live further onto the For You Page. The more activity, the more discoverable you become.

Here is where battles shine: even small actions matter. Tapping the screen adds three points to your score. For a viewer, that turns a simple double-tap into a meaningful contribution. Suddenly, they are not just scrolling aimlessly. They are part of the effort. That sense of purpose hooks people in, and the algorithm ensures even more new faces show up.

I have seen streams where someone joins for the first time during a battle, starts spamming likes to “help out,” and within ten minutes, they are chatting, laughing, and following. By the end of the night, they feel like family. Battles act as bridges, bringing in new people who may have never discovered you otherwise.

Collabs and Crossovers Happen

Battles often pair creators who would never have crossed paths otherwise. TikTok has a way of putting people together that feels random at first, but those matchups sometimes turn into life-changing connections.

Take Cam Carroll and Jack Williams. They live in different states, but one random battle brought them together. What started as friendly competition turned into consistent co-hosting, meetups at TikTok events, and eventually, a best-friend bond.

I have seen creators use battles as audition grounds too. A singer discovers another musician mid-battle, and before long they are writing songs together. A comedian faces off against a lifestyle vlogger, and their communities blend into one hilarious, supportive family.

And yes, I have even seen battles spark romance. After a string of battles, two creators realized they had chemistry that extended beyond the scoreboard. Now they are dating. (Names withheld to protect the happily-ever-afters.)

Battles, at their best, are more than content. They are networking tools, catalysts for collaboration, and sometimes the start of lifelong friendships.

The Bills Get Paid

Let’s not ignore the obvious. TikTok battles pay. For many creators, those diamonds translate into real financial stability.

One creator used to work at a grocery store. After consistently battling and building a strong community, he was able to go full-time. That income gave him freedom to focus on creating, growing, and serving his audience without compromising his values for brand deals that did not fit his story.

Money should never be the main story, but it can support the story you are called to tell. Scripture reminds us that provision has purpose. “And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work” (2 Corinthians 9:8, ESV).

When income from battles allows a creator to keep making authentic, meaningful content, it is not just about paying bills. It is about fueling the mission.

When Battles Start Messing With the Story

Presence Gets Replaced by Pressure

When every live turns into a battle, viewers can start to feel like the only way they matter is if they give. That is not love, that is a paywall. (And nobody clicks “Go Live” hoping to sound like a telemarketer.)

Sometimes the pressure does not even come from the creator but from the chat itself. You might see comments like, “Where are the gifters?” or “Don’t let us lose!” or even worse, “If you are not gifting, you are not supporting.” Those messages create an environment where presence is overlooked and generosity becomes an obligation.

The truth is, support comes in many forms. Someone watching your live for an hour is giving you something valuable: their time. Someone spamming likes is pushing your live higher in the algorithm. Someone hyping you up in chat is giving you energy. Those contributions matter.

Faith reminds us that love is not rooted in pressure or guilt. “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7, ESV). When giving becomes about compulsion instead of joy, the heart of community is lost.

Presence should always matter more than points. And when creators forget this, pressure quietly replaces the sense of belonging that makes a brand authentic.

The Brand Gets Flattened

If you built your platform on music, teaching, or faith but now you are only known as a battle streamer, your story gets reduced to one note.

This is where creators risk losing themselves. They might put off their passion projects. They might skip quality time with family because there is “just one more battle” to win. They might forget why they started streaming in the first place.

Your community joins because they connect with your unique story. If that story gets drowned out by endless battles, you risk flattening your brand. A brand that was once rich, layered, and authentic can become transactional and hollow.

Gifts Lose Their Heart

A gift is supposed to be an act of love. But in battles, gifts can shift into something else, like strategies to win, weapons to spite the other side, or even tokens of rivalry.

That is where gifting loses its meaning.

Christian leadership thinkers describe this shift as the difference between transactional giving and transformational giving. Transactional giving is giving with an expectation of return. Transformational giving is generosity rooted in freedom, joy, and love (Christian Leadership Alliance).

“Love is patient and kind. Love does not envy or boast. It is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way.”
— 1 Corinthians 13:4–5, ESV

When gifts lose their heart, love is replaced by ego. And ego cannot sustain a brand rooted in authenticity.

The Community Gets Tired

Battles are a sprint. Communities are built for marathons. If every live turns into a competition, fatigue sets in.

Some viewers slip away quietly, burned out from the pressure. Others stay, but instead of bonding as one family, they split into rival camps: “Team You” versus “Team Them.”

And research confirms what we feel in our guts. Livestream gifting is often fueled by competition and rivalry, not generosity. People give to win, to outdo, or to make sure their side doesn’t lose (ScienceDirect; Springer). Some even compete with other gifters on the same team for recognition.

Sure, rivalry spikes short-term engagement. The scoreboard climbs, the dopamine flows, and the chat buzzes. But ask yourself: what is that engagement built on?

If your “community” is built on rivalry, you are building your brand on sand. When the storm comes, and it always does, there is no foundation left.

Community should feel like home. Like family. People should leave your live lighter, not pressured. They should give because they want to, not because they feel they have to. They should return because they belong, not because they fear their side will lose without them.

Faith reminds us: “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Corinthians 13:7, ESV). Rivalry cannot bear, believe, hope, or endure. But love can. And only love builds something that lasts.

Battles might give your numbers a sugar rush. But sugar highs crash. Love sustains. And if your brand is rooted in love, your community will still stand long after the leaderboard resets.

Keeping Battles in Perspective

Branding is not about chasing campaigns. It is about the bigger story you are telling. And for me, that story always comes back to faith.

A TikTok battle can be a chapter in your story, but it should never take over the entire book.

“Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them… But when you give… do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.”
— Matthew 6:1–4, ESV

If your story is about creativity, let battles showcase your spark. If it is about faith, let them reflect kindness and grace. If it is about community, let them highlight unity instead of rivalry. Because nobody wants to binge-watch a story that is just endless fight scenes.

How to Battle Without Losing Yourself

• Set your intentions. Know why you are battling and share it with your audience.

• Take pressure off gifts. Remind your community that presence matters more than money.

• Mix it up. Balance battles with Q&As, worship, storytelling, or just hanging out.

• Check your heart. If battles are draining your joy or shifting your focus, it may be time to step back.

Wrapping It Up

TikTok battles can be fun, energizing, and financially sustaining. They can also create pressure, flatten identity, and divide communities.

Here’s the truth: battles do not create your brand. They amplify it. If your foundation is love and authenticity, battles can fit into that story as one exciting chapter. But if battles become the whole narrative, the story loses its heart.

Marketing, like faith, is not about scoreboards. It is about love, story, and connection. And love gives freely. Always. (And no, not because there is a countdown clock on the screen.)

Author’s Note

I see digital marketing as storytelling shaped by faith. Campaigns come and go, but stories endure. If you want to see how I bring this perspective into branding and strategy, stick around. You will find more of my heart here.

Why Storytelling Matters in Digital Marketing

I’ve Always Been Drawn to Stories

In digital marketing, storytelling isn’t just a strategy. It’s the heartbeat of connection.

I’ve always been a creative at heart. Writing has been my way of expressing emotions and parts of my soul I couldn’t always say out loud. Whether it was poetry, fictional pieces, or now blogging, I’ve always envisioned my words like a scene playing out in my head. Every sentence becomes a frame. Every piece of writing is a new story.

That’s why I’ve always been drawn to stories through music, through films, and through creators I admire. A song isn’t just a song. It’s the story the artist is trying to convey, the words that carry it, and the meaning you interpret for yourself. A movie sticks with us because of the character’s journey. And a creator who shares an unscripted moment makes you feel like you’re part of their world.

When I think about storytelling in digital marketing, I don’t just see numbers and strategies. At its core, it’s about making people feel something. Every post, every campaign, every livestream is a story unfolding, one that can spark connection, trust, and loyalty.

This blog is where I want to explore that: the stories behind creators, brands, and entertainment, and how they shape the way we connect.

How Storytelling Creates Connection in Digital Marketing

Here’s the truth: people don’t remember ads, they remember feelings. That’s the essence of emotional marketing.

When a brand or a creator tells a story, it builds trust. It makes you think, “Oh, they get me.” That’s what turns casual viewers into a community.

I’ve seen this happen over and over in livestreams. Like when AJ Blencowe or Ry Moore reacts to something a fan says, it’s raw, funny, and real. That one moment becomes a story the whole community remembers. Their communities make emotes and edits about it, retell it to newcomers, and laugh about it months later. It’s no longer just a stream. It’s creator storytelling, a shared memory.

That’s the power of stories. They’re what keep people coming back.

Brand Storytelling: Turning Businesses into People

The internet is noisy. Everyone is trying to sell something. But people don’t fall in love with products. They fall in love with people.

That’s what brand storytelling does: it makes a company feel human.

Think about your favorite artist. You love their music, sure, but what keeps you hooked is their story. How they started, what they’ve gone through, and the way they connect with fans. The same is true for films. Special effects are cool, but the character’s arc is what you carry with you. This is why the internet is so fired up about being Team Conrad or Team Jeremiah right now.

Creators live this every day. Their communities tune in not just for the content, but for the journey. The highs, the lows, the inside jokes. And when brands lean into authentic marketing through storytelling, they stop being faceless. They become someone you want to root for.

Storytelling for Creators: Building Communities That Last

Trends come and go. Stories stick.

Creators who build stories into their content aren’t just chasing virality. They’re building communities. Think about the inside jokes, the emotes, the callbacks to past livestream moments. Those aren’t random. They’re shared history. Every time someone uses one, they’re saying, “I was there. I belong here.” That sense of belonging is community building in marketing, and it builds loyalty.

And here’s where it gets exciting: data and storytelling actually work together. Data tells you what’s resonating, but content storytelling gives it weight. That’s how you move from quick hype to sustainable growth, growth built on meaning, not just momentum.

3 Ways to Use Storytelling in Digital Marketing

1. Start With Your “Why”

   Don’t just promote your product or content. Share the story behind it. Why did you create it? What problem are you trying to solve? Audiences connect more deeply when they understand your purpose.

2. Highlight Real People & Moments

   Whether it’s a behind-the-scenes livestream moment, a customer testimonial, or a founder’s journey, real stories build trust. Instead of polished ads, focus on authentic marketing. It’s what makes your brand human.

3. Create a Shared Narrative

Encourage your community to join in the storytelling. Use emotes, callbacks to past livestream moments, or branded hashtags that become part of your audience’s shared history. This sense of belonging keeps people engaged long after the trend fades.

Why Storytelling in Marketing Outlives Trends

For me, storytelling in marketing isn’t just a tool. It’s who I am. Writing has always been how I process the world. I turn feelings into words, and words into scenes that play in my mind. Whether it’s poetry, fiction, or blogging, I’ve always been creating stories.

That’s why storytelling in digital marketing doesn’t feel like a “strategy” to me. It feels like a heartbeat, both in my life and in the work I want to do.

This blog is my space to explore that heartbeat. To share storytelling examples in marketing from creators, brands, and entertainment, and to reflect on what makes them last.

So let me ask you: what’s a story that’s stuck with you? Maybe it was a livestream moment, a campaign that made you feel seen, or a song whose lyrics told a story you’ll never forget. Share it with me; I’d love to hear.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what we’ll remember. Not the numbers. Not the metrics. The stories.