Why the Thing I Loved Most Became the Thing I Avoided
I loved profiles, so why wasn’t I writing them?
When I shadow someone I’m profiling, I’m mostly looking for what’s not said — the glance, the pause, the contradiction. Why? Because we are the masters of our own narratives, and, at the same time, the least reliable ones to tell them.
If we met in person and I told you a story filled with colorful characters, conflict, and a gripping plot, your instinct would be to trust me. Why wouldn’t you? I seem trustworthy. You just met me. You have no reason not to believe me.
That’s why the “unreliable narrator” works so well in literature.
We trust the storyteller. The voice we hear first becomes the voice of truth — until it’s not. Only later do we see the cracks: the addiction, the mental illness, the compulsive lying, the distorted lens. Suddenly, the narrator’s credibility unravels.
You’ve seen this before: The Girl on the Train. Fight Club. Rebecca. Edgar Allan Poe’s Tell-Tale Heart opens with a narrator who tries to convince us he’s sane. (Pro tip: Never trust a narrator who tries to convince you he’s sane.)
Here’s the twist: We’re all the unreliable narrators of our own lives. We distort, we deny, we embellish — all while having unshakable confidence in our version of events. Few of us stop to fact-check our own beliefs. We listen to the main character in our head instead of checking in with the supporting cast. But our version of the story isn’t the only one, and it might be wildly off.
That’s why I love writing profiles.
Because when Anthony Scaramucci tells me he doesn’t need to be vindicated, and I spot a figurine of himself in a cape that says, “We won! Fuck off.” Or when Ryan Serhant builds a “nice guy” brand all over the internet, but tells me, with a smile, that his symbolic animal of the year is the orca: “We are graceful while we kill.”
That’s the moment I know I’ve struck gold.
Now, indulge me for a second as I psychoanalyze myself.
If you were profiling me and asked, “Why did you start The Profile?” I’d give you a heartfelt answer: how much I love peeling back the layers of a person, understanding their motives, humanizing them beyond status or celebrity.
Your next question would be obvious: “Then why, since 2017, haven’t you written a single original profile yourself?”
Shit.
That’s the exact question my husband asked me at dinner in December 2024. He looked up mid-bite and said casually, “I really think you could be the greatest at what you do. But I also think part of you is scared of that.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was defensive at first. Of course I want to be great. Who doesn’t?
But that’s the contradiction that reveals the truth. I wasn’t writing profiles. I was circling around them — interviewing people, writing Q&As, curating others’ work. I enjoyed all of it, but it wasn’t the thing I enjoyed the most.
Here’s what I’ve learned: High-achievers don’t self-sabotage because they lack ambition. They do it because they’re terrified of going all-in and still falling short. Writing original profiles meant risking judgment, being seen. It forced me to shift from “protective mode” to “creative mode.”
Now I ask myself one question: Am I playing to win, or playing not to lose?
For years, I was playing not to lose. Always on defense. Avoiding the leap. Skirting around the risk. Now I’m playing to win — and it’s changed everything.
Writing profiles cuts through my overthinking. It clears the fog. It gives my brain a puzzle to solve. There’s nothing more satisfying than piecing together someone’s outer life with their inner world by trying to understand how they built something from nothing, justified their choices, and crafted the story they tell others.
Because sometimes, to see your own life clearly, you have to understand someone else’s.
And sometimes, it takes a profile — or a person you love — to show you just how unreliable your own narrator has been.
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“Because we are the masters of our own narratives, and, at the same time, the least reliable ones to tell them.”
Speak for yourself, Polina! I’m very reliable.
I kid, I completely agree!
Which is why I love profiles, biographies and documentaries where someone is piecing together the narrative from multiple sources.
I’ve got a natural scepticism of social media and biographies because in the main it’s in the best interests of the participants to paint the picture they want us to see.
Love the idea of a reliable narrator. I keep coming back because I trust you to find the narrative that tells us the most about the person amongst all the noise.
Keep writing, you’ve got a massive talent, unique viewpoint and great way with words.
love this polina the way you write touches me as a genz you have taught me so much by opening sharing your struggles and lessons thank you love from india !