The Struggle to Remain Relevant

If you’re like me and launched a blog during the heyday of the blogosphere – back in the early 2010s, when Twitter and tweet-ups reigned on high – you’re probably feeling like a fish out of water these days. I know I am. Assailed from every direction by Tiktok accounts, followers in the tens to hundreds of thousands, fancy reels, and a lexicon I can’t even decipher, I feel like a helpless fixture from the past harkening to a day when words were once swords and readers tuned in to validate our self-appointed journalistic endeavors.

I started Beirutista in the summer of 2012, drawing inspiration from the prolific profiles of BlogBaladi (Najib Mitri), Gino’s Blog (Gino Raidy), Ivy Says (Dana Khairallah), and Plus.961 (Rami Fayoume). I had recently transplanted to Lebanon only a year before, and I ardently felt a need to document my adventures in the motherland as somebody who grew up abroad yet identified strongly with Lebanese-ness. My lens was unique, and I was eager to share it with the local community. Besides, writing was my secret passion, one that I had nurtured since childhood and reluctantly parted with in college, when I opted for a mechanical engineering degree rather than the pure pursuit of English Literature (my freshman professor wagged her finger at me in semi-playful disagreement). Blogging would be perfect for my profile: I’d have the rare chance to edify my friends back in the US and Europe on the beauty of Lebanon, one that the media refused to portray, all while honing my writing skills and toning my literary muscle.

And you know what? Beirutista was embraced! In no time, it became widely read in Lebanon and abroad (in part thanks to the aggregator LebaneseBlogs.com conceived by Mustafa Hamoui). I started to gain traction, and readers came back for my objective, detailed writing. I forayed into restaurant reviews and the world of hospitality, which fostered a number of significant collaborations, behind the scenes menu development, and even travel. Somehow I got catapulted into the ranks of the media, and invitations to red carpet premiers, new culinary hotspots, exclusive events and meet-and-greets filled my social calendar. I even participated in press trips to beautiful destinations in Greece and Cyprus, as I tried my hand at travel writing. I was featured in Annahar newspaper (print and online!), and I landed three televised interviews on primetime programming in Lebanon.

Enjoying a movie premiere at VOX Gold, Beirut City Centre Hazmieh, in 2014

I remember when Instagram started to gain prominence, in late 2014. I had a chat with my good friend Rabih Skini, the brains behind the award-winning Instagram account BeirutFood, and he showed me how he’d built up his following to 10,000 in little time. Back then, you attained celebrity status if you had 5,000+ followers. Nobody dreamt of achieving 20k, let alone 100k, even with the more straightforward algorithm Instagram followed at the time. We were veritable celebrities, and we’d earned it through our prose, our photography, and good old-fashioned commitment.

In the wake of Lebanon’s financial collapse toward the close of 2019, and then Covid-19, both of which led to the demise of the hospitality scene, I and others in the same arena found ourselves inconsequential. I lost all the longstanding freelance jobs I had entertained, and the blog grew idle. I always thought there’d come a time conducive to the blog’s resurrection. But even now, as Lebanon booms again, the blog in its original state feels somewhat anachronistic. Even as Lebanon rebounds from decline, the tide has shifted for us old-school bloggers. We enjoyed a golden era where we were wined and dined and cherished for every word of feedback we’d deposit both on our blogs and to event organizers and hospitality leaders. These days, we’ve been squeezed out of the spotlight. Brands prefer to pursue collaborations with artist celebrities (whether actors, singers, comedians and the like) or with accounts boasting astronomical followings. While I do still receive invites to exhibitions or new stores or rising pubs, it’s a far cry from my pre-2019 days when my calendar was awash with riveting events.

And I’m okay with that. Nothing lasts forever. The world is a very dynamic place, and creatives fight tooth and nail for relevance, publicity, and praise. But the wheels of change keep on rolling, and that’s just the way it is.

I’m still writing, however. Maybe not so much on the blog, but I am poring over very near and dear personal projects I had long deferred. Those, I hope, will be my lasting legacy. I might also launch a Substack page soon where I can genuinely be free to write and exploit built-in exposure among like-minded readers and writers. When that page comes to fruition, you’ll be the first to know. So as always, stay tuned.

And thank you for being loyal fans of Beirutista since day one. I have never taken your time or allegiance for granted. And I am honored you’re still here.

Enjoyed this post? Never miss out on future posts by following Beirutista here.