A TikTok video can take less than a minute to film. The rest of it – the editing, the pressure, the waiting to see how it performs – lasts much longer.
For some students, posting has become part of their routine, squeezed in between homework, practices and work shifts. While their follower counts and content styles vary, student creators describe having similar questions regarding how much time to spend on the app, how personal to be and how Tiktok fits into life offline.
Junior Ava Haynes downloaded Tiktok as a freshman because her friends had it.
“I really just used it as a fun platform,” Haynes said. “I would do little voiceovers or dances when I was with my friends.”
Over time, her content shifted. Haynes began posting beauty, wellness and fitness videos more consistently, slowly building an audience. Currently, she has 38,000 followers and more than 6.3 million likes.
Her account gained major traction in August 2024, when a video featuring her and her then-boyfriend went viral. Nearly two years later, the video continues to draw comments and attention.
“I still get notifications from it,” Haynes said. “People will screenshot it and ask if I’m still with him.”
As her page grew, Haynes said she became more intentional about what she posted and how she interacted with the app. She learned that chasing trends or broad hashtags did not always lead to meaningful engagement.
“I try to use hashtags that actually match what’s in my video and who I want to reach.”
That strategy reflects how Haynes approaches TikTok overall. Rather than spending hours scrolling, she limits herself to about an hour a day on social media.
“I notice I’ll consume more than I’m creating,” Haynes said. “And I’ll be more focused on what’s happening on my phone than what’s actually happening around me.”
Haynes has worked with brands related to wellness and beauty, sometimes creating videos for companies without posting them on her own page.
While that side of TikTok can look glamorous from the outside, she said it also comes with pressure.
“A lot of my for you page is other influencers,” Haynes said. “It doesn’t even feel enjoyable sometimes. It feels like an echo chamber telling me to post more.”
Despite her success, Haynes said she does not want to be an influencer long-term. She said she would like to work in marketing and eventually support women-owned businesses internationally, using the skills she has learned online in a different setting.
“I like to embrace my digital footprint,” Haynes said. “But you have to be cautious, what you post can come back to you.”
Junior Sophia Duy-Miller’s experience with TikTok has been a little less intentional. She does not describe herself as an influencer, despite having 25,000 followers and more than 5.1 million likes on the Tikok.
She does not post brand deals or curated content, instead she focuses on videos that feel relatable or spontaneous.
“I just kind of post whatever and hope it lands,” Duy-Miller said.
Her first viral moment came during her freshman year, when she posted a video of her standing on a toilet lip-syncing a video.
“I looked and I realized it had over 100,000 likes,” Duy-Miller said. “It was kind of cool because it was my first time posting my face.”
Since then, Duy-Miller has continued posting consistently, building an audience through humor and observation. One of her most popular videos, receiving hundreds of thousands of likes, covered a true crime story using on-screen text rather than voice narration.
“I use TikTok to inform people about my interests as well as to make down to earth content,” Miller said.
Unlike Haynes, Duy-Miller said she feels more confident online than in person, and being recognized at school can feel uncomfortable.
“I post confidently behind the screen,” Duy-Miller said. “But in person, I don’t really have that same confidence.”
She said the pressure to stay consistent can make TikTok feel like a responsibility rather than a hobby. Duy-Miller often edits and rewatches her videos multiple times before posting.
“Sometimes I worry about the things I post,” Duy-Miller said. “Plus you have to stay consistent online, or else you’ll fall off.”
At the same time, she is realistic about the limitations of TikTok fame. While many people assume large followings come with large paychecks, Miller said that is rarely the case.
“You’re not making as much as people think you are,” Duy-Miller said. “You have to think about taxes and how little you actually get paid per view.”
Her family and friends have been supportive. Duy-Miller said her mother encouraged her to continue posting and explore monetization once she meets age requirements for account verification.Between football practices senior Hunter Jensen has been working to grow his page. With about 1,600 followers and 74,000 likes, Jensen’s content is centered around sports, fitness and trends. As the offensive line for the football team, his page reflects the same discipline and routines that shape his offline life.
“I have been recognized a few times for my videos,” Jensen said. “I don’t feel awkward about it, I just smile and take a photo.”
Jensen has partnered with fitness brands such as 1st Phorm and Habits364, aligning his content to things he finds relatable.
“How much I’ll make from those partnerships really depends on how much engagement I bring in.”
Rather than chasing viral moments, Jensen uses TikTok as an extension of what he is already doing, staying active and engaged in his interests.
TikTok fits into each student’s life differently. Haynes approaches the app strategically, Duy-Miller posts organic and emotionally driven content and Jensen uses TikTok as an outlet rather than a spotlight.
Despite those differences, their experiences overlap. All describe pressure in different forms, whether from algorithms, expectations or consistency. All also described learning when to step back.
“It can be hard to post at all with everything going on in a day,” Jensen said. “I just try to limit myself to what I can do.”
