Travis Kelce tried to sell me cereal during The Real Housewives of Orange County.  

Starring in a 2000s game show pastiche, Travis Kelce and his brother Jason Kelce wrestle other contestants in an attempt to win a Lucky Charms rainbow plushie.

Lights flash when they win, the brothers poke fun at the Lucky Charms mascot and the ad demands I find their “Kelce Mix” cereal after the program.

His presence in multiple random corners of my life is sudden but inevitable. Kelce is everywhere — on multiple channels, in the news and even in my recommended podcasts — all of which has been part of the carefully crafted plan laid out by his team of publicists in a New York Times piece.

The exposure feels disjointed. Seeing so much of Kelce in a short period means I can’t get a footing for who he’s trying to be.

The evolution of the Kansas City Chiefs’ tight end to media darling started long before a romance with Taylor. In a quest for fame after football, he’s amassed multiple roles.

[Tell Me Lies’ showcases generational shift in boundaries, relationships]

He first stepped outside the NFL box in 2016 with a cheesy Joe Millionaire imitation, Chasing Kelce. Oozing dopey charm, Kelce took to the camera with ease as a relaxed bachelor with money to burn.

Now, refined with age and media training, a more polished version of this Kelce is on the new series Are You Smarter Than A Celebrity? The insipid premise, paired with a panel of C-list celebrities, leaves the series stale upon arrival, but it grants Kelce the chance to flex his hosting skills — carving out a compelling niche for his retirement.

While he’s compelling, the fun, early Channing Tatum ridiculousness he once tapped into feels stripped away. Still, Kelce is multifaceted — or so we’re told.

He’s more than a frat boy — he’s also an actor. Along with hosting, Kelce has ventured into the world of prestigious television with the 2024 Grotesquerie.

Every flirtatious line with Niecy Nash and the praise he’s received from his co-workers makes it clear he’s making an effort. But as comforting as it is to know he tried, it doesn’t change the fact that his co-stars are acting circles around him.

The mass campaign to make Kelce a star inadvertently clashes with what first brought him to the mainstream. How can a man be interested in increasing his star power and presence while dating the most famous woman in the world?

[New UMD woodwind-making course combines music, engineering skills]

How does this clash with the supportive, second-fiddle boyfriend image he seemed content  playing so far? The sudden diversion from his relationship with Swift to the many faces of Kelce fails to remove the former.

His omnipresence invites the conversation of “nepo-boyfriend” rather than feeding into his hidden talent persona. Is the multiple endorsements, game shows and future ventures into acting an attempt to escape Swift? It’s already failing — the cereal is half-off online.

To say that a “rising” star must immediately conform to one thing is counterproductive, but not every star is in the position Kelce’s been offered.

It’s one thing to try new opportunities. It’s another to be everywhere and in everything all at once. Branching into various mediums creates too many variations of the same man.

I’m not ready to welcome him into my home so casually via Bravo. I needed a route with baby steps — maybe a Dancing With The Stars appearance, a viral photo to crown him “white boy of the month,” or even a cameo on another FX show — he would’ve killed on English Teacher.

Until then, let’s hope he finds success in front of one camera as easily as on the field.