No One Else’s You: Pt. 1 – The Beginning

Building in Public: The First Steps of NOEY

A Mini Introduction to Me

31, software developer. Slowly emerging from a haze of burnout and a semi-depressive spell tied to compulsive drinking. I could tell you I’ve been sober for over a year now, but honestly, that’s not what feels like an accomplishment. I’ve never wanted to define myself by what I abstain from—by what I don’t do. Instead, I’d rather focus on how close I am to becoming the person I’ve always wanted to be.

The tricky part? I’m not entirely sure who that person is.

What I do know is that building better habits and learning to embrace delayed gratification has been helping me inch closer to understanding myself. Not curing, not running—but learning.

Not Enough Words

Here’s the thing: I’m a good talker. Give me a stage, a microphone, or even a room full of people, and I know how to keep them entertained—heck, some might even throw out "charismatic." I’ve been speaking publicly since my early years, though back then it might have looked more like cracking jokes as the class clown. (Public service, wouldn’t you agree?)

So you’d think I’d have no issues expressing myself. But you’d be wrong.

There’s a difference between sounding good and truly saying something meaningful—something that's me. When it comes to the latter, I struggle. Why? Maybe it’s my pesky tendency to please people. Maybe I’ve been too focused on how others hear me instead of how I hear myself.

But before this veers into a full-blown therapy session, let me bring it back to my photography.

I’ve always loved photography, but I never quite knew what to do with it. Platforms like Instagram don’t feel right for me—I’m not knocking Instagram, I just find it’s not a medium where I can fully articulate what my photos mean. Like I said before: there’s a difference between looking good and saying something. And my photos? They deserve to say something.

Zines: The Right Number of Pages

Here’s what I’ve learned: I’m long-winded. Always have been. Not enough words can be frustrating, but not enough pages? That’s where it gets interesting.

I found myself gravitating toward creating photo essays, or more precisely, zines. These short collections of images tell stories—stories that can’t be captured in just one or two photos, or a snappy Instagram caption.

I don’t know why this feels natural to me, but it does. Maybe it’s because I’ve fallen in love with the process of collecting fragments—pictures, thoughts, emotions—and piecing them together into something bigger.

To borrow a line from J. Cole:

"My mind's quite depressed if I don't write these, I'm Spike Lee of the audio."

I’m no Spike Lee, but that line hits home. Without alcohol or other distractions to numb the edges, life has slowed down significantly for me over the last year and a half. And in the stillness, I’ve had to find new ways to express myself. It gets lonely sometimes—hell, most of the time—but journaling every morning has been one of the most therapeutic habits I’ve picked up.

This same need for expression has spilled over into how I see my photography: not as disjointed snapshots, but as long-form articles with space to breathe. Zines have become the perfect medium for me.

Bringing Zines to Life

Creating my first zine was a major learning experience—equal parts exciting and overwhelming. I quickly realized just how much goes into bringing something like this to life: the layout, the design, the pacing. There’s an art to making everything flow seamlessly, and I had no idea where to even begin.

I was lucky enough to have friends who stepped in and handled the design work pro bono. They brought my photos and words to life in ways I couldn’t have imagined. But as grateful as I am, I know I can’t rely on favors every time. Without a solid, replicable design system, every new zine feels like starting from scratch.

That’s where NOEY comes in (pronounced 'noh-ee' like 'Joey' but with an 'N' instead of a 'J').

I want to build something that gives me the tools to plug and play my ideas, a system that lets me focus on the storytelling while still ensuring everything looks and feels cohesive. I’m intentionally not calling it a magazine.

NOEY stands for “No One Else’s You,” and it’s a constant reminder that only you can express your true self—your unique voice, your story, your perspective. And whatever form that expression takes—photography, zines, writing—NOEY is the umbrella under which it all lives. I know it’s a bit corny and cheesy, but I’ve been playing ‘cool’ for so long that maybe that’s why I’ve had such a hard time truly expressing myself.

Building in Public

Ideas don’t really come to life until you speak them into existence. Nothing feels real until you hash it out with a friend over coffee or put it out there for someone else to hold space for.

That’s what this is. That’s what this article is. A spoken attempt to bring NOEY to life—through words, photography, and honest musings about the process.

Every now and then, I’ll write updates here about how it’s going: the wins, the stumbles, the "what-ifs." Maybe this fails, and it becomes nothing more than a fond experiment. Maybe it sees the light of day. Either way, this is NOEY’s story from inception.

So, wish me luck. Because at the end of the day, no one else is you, and no one else is me. I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I’m hoping it sticks.

Cheers,

Hermen