Tiktok creator Mikayla Nogueira on her relationship with fear and strength, and exactly what it is she loves about beauty

Mikayla Nogueira’s strength is palpable. It’s not the reason for this interview, but it’s certainly why we’re here. After all, it takes a particular kind of courage to exist in the public eye, let alone amass more than 17 million followers and translate that into a booming beauty brand. And Mikayla hasn’t just been celebrated—she’s been called out, scrutinised, and occasionally misunderstood along the way.

Take, for instance, the infamous ‘try being an influencer for a day’ moment. A casual remark about her long workdays—filming, editing, meetings, brand calls—was twisted online. People called her out for ‘bragging’, accused her of being out of touch, and the story exploded. (Which, by the way, being influencer-adjacent at many events and press trips, I can assure you that they’re some of the hardest workers I know.) For someone whose career is built on authenticity, the backlash could have been crushing. But Mikayla navigates these moments with an almost strategic honesty. ‘Everything I do comes from fear,’ she tells me. ‘Fear of failing, fear of people disliking me, fear of how I look. I channel that into work.’

It was that same fear that led her to launch her own brand. Even still early in her career, a mentor told her bluntly, ‘You need something that exists beyond TikTok, in case this career isn’t there any more.’ At first, she resisted—the idea felt risky, even overwhelming. But fear, she realised, could be a powerful propellant. ‘I started thinking, okay, I’m scared, so I need to act. That’s how the brand came about,’ she explains. ‘Fear isn’t just something to manage—it’s fuel.’

She laughs lightly when we open our Zoom call from New Zealand. ‘We’re technically the first country to see the sun,’ I tell her, because she’s never been: a moment of levity before we dive in. Mikayla grew up in Boston, worked at Ulta Beauty, and was completing her degree when the pandemic hit. Everything shut down—her job, her university, even the career she had lined up post-graduation. ‘I was left wondering what my future would look like,’ she says. ‘I downloaded TikTok the week the country shut down, just to distract myself. I had no idea that would change my life.’

Her first videos weren’t beauty tutorials at all—they were educational clips she made with her mother for her mother’s students. Then she posted a single makeup tutorial—her dream project realised in an unlikely moment of chaos—and it blew up immediately. From there, she committed fully: filming multiple videos every day, experimenting with content, and building a community that followed her not just for tutorials, but for her personality, humour, and candour. And her thick, Boston accent.

'At first, I was just playing around,' she explains. 'I didn’t think it would go anywhere. I was just having fun and trying things out.' But today, the stakes are different. With a successful brand and millions of eyes on her every move, authenticity comes at a cost. 'I feel less capable of being fully authentic now,' she admits. 'Because the more open you are, the more criticism you invite.' That criticism isn’t just about makeup or content. It’s about her life—every choice dissected, every mistake amplified.

It should be noted that from where I’m sitting, Mikayla’s routine is relentless. She has an incredible drive and work ethic: filming from seven in the morning until one, then switching to brand work until six. ‘It’s not a glamorous job. It’s editing, filming, meetings, planning campaigns. And you have to be constantly present, because everything reflects on you.’ Yet, despite the pressure, she preserves grounding parts of her life: walks with her now ex-husband (they have separated in the time since our interview) and dogs, cooking, baths, and the occasional TV binge. These small rituals, she says, are essential to maintaining a sense of self.

Beauty, for Mikayla, has always been more than aesthetic. ‘I don’t wear makeup to feel beautiful. I feel beautiful without it. Makeup makes me feel powerful,’ she says. Her signature concealer lip is as much a nostalgic ritual as it is a confidence tool, something she’s carried through her career. And while her looks have grown more simplified over time, she remains committed to bold, creative self-expression—even if the pressure to perform online sometimes dampens that instinct.

And so then came her beauty brand: Point of View. Launching this introduced an entirely new level of responsibility. ‘Now it’s not just me—I’m supporting a team of almost 30 people,’ she says. ‘That adds pressure. Fear drives me, yes, but it also motivates me to ensure everything is perfect.’ And for all the scandals, long workday criticisms, and scrutiny that come with being a creator at scale, she has never lost sight of the purpose behind her work.

‘I want to be known for strength,’ she says, and it’s clear she means it. Behind the camera, behind the persona, she has endured personal challenges—her ex-husband’s addiction, the launch of a brand, constant public scrutiny—and remained committed to her life and work. She hopes her story can show that it’s possible to keep going through difficult times.

Even now, five years into a career that has brought her unexpected opportunities, Mikayla is still looking ahead. ‘Watching my evolution over the last five years has been interesting for a lot of people,’ she reflects. ‘This next year is going to be massive for my brand. The last five years were just the appetiser.’ And, from where I’m sitting, it’s impossible not to believe her.