Becoming Through the UNBecoming

why I created the unbecoming and what it taught me.

Not every tear is about sadness—sometimes it’s release.

It’s strange how the hardest chapters of our lives often become the most clarifying. For me, that’s what The UNBecoming represents: it’s a six-part micro-film series I created as my directorial debut. On the surface, it’s a project of short vignettes. But at its core, it’s a reflection of my own unraveling. The moments of stillness, reckoning, and shedding that forced me to confront myself in ways I never had before.

I’ve always struggled with perfectionism, self-acceptance, and my fair share of control issues. But all of that came to a head this past year. At that time, my career was my world. And while that isn’t inherently a bad thing, the way I tied my worth to money and validation made it a fragile foundation—one that eventually cracked beneath me. Existing contracts vanished overnight. New ones fizzled out. And suddenly I was left with nothing but time and stillness.

You could point to external reasons: the threat of tariffs, an unpredictable economy, a wave of new and exciting creators. But deep down, I knew it was something greater at play. It felt like the universe had hit pause on everything in my life so I’d finally be forced to stop, to look around, and to reckon with where I was headed.

The truth is, I can recall very early in life those perfectionist, workaholic tendencies
being on display.

My third-grade report card was filled with A’s and a note from my teacher, Mr. Hill, to the effect of:

Kasim is an excellent student, always exceeding my expectations. But I must say, he’s a bit of a workaholic.

I knew then, even as a child, that rest was treated as an inconvenience and productivity was what earned praise. That mindset never really left me. It just grew more polished, more performative, as I got older.

It’s hard to even think back to that version of me, he feels like a distant memory but he was me less than a year ago. The one who measured his worth by accomplishments. Who chased external validation to feel whole. Who believed if he just perfected every detail, he could finally feel at peace in his own body. My work as an influencer didn’t create those tendencies, but it gave them a stage and in many ways, it amplified them until I couldn’t ignore them anymore.

Then the carpet was pulled out from under me. And I had a decision to make: sit around and wait for work to magically reappear, or reconsider who I was and what I wanted my life to look like. It was a fork in the road, and for the first time in a long time, I chose to bet on myself.

What I didn’t realize was just how much I’d unearth within myself after making that choice.

My directorial debut, The UNBecoming, chronicles that unraveling. It captures how I had to confront my demons, shed outdated versions of myself, and learn to stand in who I am now. Someone who is still (and will always be) on the journey of healing, growing, and expanding but also someone who, for the first time, feels whole within himself. Flaws and all.

The first two episodes Stuck and Control lay the foundation. They explore the illusion of progress, the safety of repetition, and the way perfectionism convinces us to keep performing long after it stops serving us. These aren’t just stories I created; they’re reflections of the cycles I lived in, and the cycles so many of us find ourselves trapped inside.

The UNBecoming is the most raw, personal, and emotional thing I’ve ever made. I created it for myself, but I know the feelings I processed and the battles I faced aren’t unique to me. They’re part of the human experience: the search for one’s truest self underneath everything that’s been forced upon us.

Because mental health is a human issue.

Not a race issue. Not a gender issue. It affects us all. It’s a human issue. And the silence around it—the endless smiles, the endless performances we use to mask the truth—often hurts us more than the struggle itself.

Through storytelling, film, and the immersive experiences I’m building alongside this work, I want to make space for that conversation. Spaces where we can pause, reflect, and soften. Where art isn’t just consumed but felt. Where we see ourselves in someone else’s unraveling and remember we’re not alone in our own.

This is where I’m heading. Beyond content. Beyond campaigns. Into stories you can live inside of. Experiences that stop you in your tracks and ask you to feel something real.

The UNBecoming is just the beginning.

— Kasim

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