Hey you (yes, you!)
In the famous words of Dido (the popstar, not the Greek Queen), I want to thank you.
When I started this Substack in February ‘23, I didn’t think it would become much more than a place to post my writing. It was more of a self-accountability tool than anything else: a bolt-hole for productive procrastination; a place for musing and meandering with the written word; a space to absorb the wisdom of other writers. Also, it was a new, shiny, up-and-coming platform and I am a Magpie when it comes to exciting new projects, creative or otherwise.
So, if you’re still reading (and I hope you are) this post is to say a whopping-huge-great-colossal-thank-you to you.
I always intended this become more than a newsletter for my family and friends. (Actually, I think my parents dislike reading about my inner turmoil and dating misadventures despite my mum’s adorable PR-worthy pride of telling everyone they know about this Substack.) Last week’s post where I mentioned a vibrator? Yep, my mum and dad read it. Think about that for a second.
I initially saw this platform as nothing more than a side hustle; an online portfolio, a blog to record my ideas publicly, so they would be shaped into something readable over time but outside of breaking inter-generational family boundaries, what I didn’t force is that it would change the way I see myself as a creative.
Writing is a strange old business. Nobody tells you what to do. There are rules, but often they are made to be ignored. A ‘voice’ is a thing we find over time; it can only be discovered by doing but how do you hone without seeking some feedback? How do you refine without opening yourself up to others? Writers sit there, mining their own thoughts and feelings, asking themselves the hypothetical feelings of others, trying to stitch words for complex continuums and conflicting emotions. Sometimes it feels like we are bashing out little squiggles on a keyboard for absolutely nobody to care. Sometimes, it feels we are scooping out our rotten little cores and polishing them up to be consumed and spat out by the public. But, one man’s toxic waste can be another man’s potpourri. (That’s a direct quote from The Grinch by the way —an iconic film). We fear judgement, which in part, can make us better at what we do, but in part, can cause us to filter our ideas or develop a self-consciousness which makes us worse at what we set out to do in the first place. It’s a fine balance.
This place has helped me genuinely believe I am a creative. After all, the only way to become a writer is to write.
Substack encourages you to share, to raise the stakes on your work, to support, to recommend, to keep going. But, it’s become more than a media channel for me: it is a community. Every person on here is part of a broad network of creatives striving to be the writers, editors, collaborators and connectors of their own ideas. It’s inspiring to have met so many Substackers in person (who by the way are SO LOVELY it makes me fuzzy from the inside out). I now have Substack friends. Everybody on here uses the platform in a different way, but it’s so encouraging to see how it is shaping so many broader creative journeys, either by providing an outlet from their usual work, starting out a new path, finding their next step or using it as a bolster to successful projects and careers already in flight.
Knowing over two-hundred of you are reading this every week means the world to me. Partially because we all need a small bit of validation to keep us going (we are all narcissists after all — it is a by-product of existing on earth in 2024) but mostly because it makes me feel incredibly lucky and humbled that so many of you, in a world of content saturation, care enough and give up your precious time to read my words.
So, perhaps my mother bullied you into adding your email into the subscription box and you’ve never hit unsubscribe, or you succumb to the click-bait of my shameless-self promotion on Instagram each week. Whether you have no idea what Substack actually is (you just open the emails) or you post religiously on here yourself and found me through a kind recommendation from one of my Substack besties — whoever you are, however you engage with my words, if you have taken the time to read this, I want to let you know: I appreciate you.
Thank you so much for reading. It means the world to me. I really, really mean that.
Thank you Michaella for being here! 👏
Your presence on this platform makes it an even lovelier place to spend time. 😘
It is always such a pleasure to read!