Lessons from one year on Substack
Plus some thank-yous and a gift
January 28 marked my one-year Substack anniversary. I wanted to share the lessons I have learned from this first year—in which I wrote 65 posts—but first, I want to start with thank-yous. And at the end, offer a gift.
Unless you do something like Zoom write-alongs, writing may seem like a solitary act. But for me, I often feel company through my storytelling and sometimes have fellow writers on my mind or perched on my shoulder as I string words together. I want to thank a few of those folks here and recommend you subscribe to their newsletters.
I had a conversation with my friend (and wonderful writer/voracious reader)
on January 25, 2023 about newsletters, podcasting, and Substack. I adore KJ’s direct sauce and we covered a lot of ground in our short chat. I had been thinking about starting on Substack on and off for a couple of years and our conversation led me to just get over myself—more on that below—and launch my Substack three days later. Thanks, KJ, for the loving kick in the pants!My former work wife—we co-authored Minimalist Parenting and co-hosted Edit Your Life—and forever friend
is the person who is often perched on my shoulder while I write and sketch out Edit Your Life shows. She is one of the most generous, insightful, and caring human beings I know; these qualities always comes through in her newsletter.I “met”
last year when we recorded an Edit Your Life episode in advance of her new book; the connection was beautiful and immediate. Shira and I are deeply aligned in life philosophies, with the exception that she delights in the idea of having kids skateboard through her house while that thought terrifies me! (Having her home be a welcoming and joyful space is a core value for Shira.) Shira is a generous supporter of my work and I always love seeing how she shows up here on Substack.- is one of my OG blogging friends and she and I have long shared one particular challenge as writers. Liz and I came up as lifestyle/resource bloggers, which meant that periodically we dealt with absurd “stay in your lane!” pushback when we showed up as multidimensional humans who cared about things like equality, justice, and voting. Seeing Liz thrive on Substack is a wonderful reminder of how important it is to not let external forces try to hem you in and get in the way of writing what you want to write.
If you seek deeper human connection and are exhausted by the numbers game, you need
in your brain. Dan shows up as a nourishing, compassionate voice on Substack and offers ongoing reminders to focus on humans and relationships. After reading one of his recent Notes, I invited him to join me on Edit Your Life to talk about human connection and creativity. I’m so excited to sink into his vibe during our conversation and will be sure to share the episode when it goes live.
Now, whether you are just starting out, have been contemplating a writing practice, or engage here regularly, I hope these lessons will offer food for thought.
1. Override your overthinking brain and just start
There are so many reasons we talk ourselves out of things. I don’t categorize myself as an overthinker given how gut/action oriented I am, but in the couple of years that I thought on and off about starting on Substack I kept talking myself out of it. Learning something new is hard. Trying to grow a new audience feels dreadful. Can I really commit to writing long-form each week? I am just so freaking busy right now.
And yet. Towards the end of 2022 I felt somewhat adrift as a writer. I had about 70% of the first draft of a memoir written but felt uncertain about whether I would pitch it. In October 2022 I retired Boston Mamas—my 16-year-old baby—which was where I inserted personal narrative amidst a resource-focused frame whenever I could. And while I knew my reflective long-form Instagram posts resonated with people, I often felt hemmed in and frustrated by the 2,200 character limit.
I just didn’t feel like my voice had a home where I could show up the way I wanted to show up.
And so, after that conversation with
, I stopped focusing on all the reasons not to write and oriented towards self-expression that perhaps could also at times help others. Just jumping in without any kind of editorial or marketing plan or goals was exactly what I needed.“I love your voice and I always find myself either laughing or crying in agreement. You both make me feel seen and help me to think bigger and beyond where I am right now.” —5/23/2023 subscriber email
2. Keep your goals pure
If you want to thrive on Substack focus on what you can control: your writing and connection with other human beings. I realize in this day and age it’s difficult not to get bound up in subscriber counts, likes, and comments but there is literally nothing you can do about your numbers in the sense of wishing for them to increase or planning/paying for a massive spike—I hope the bots and system gaming that has infected other social platforms never lands here. If you are struggling with letting go of the numbers, follow
’s work!3. The potential for immeasurable impact is beautiful
In my 13 years as a creative director/communications ninja, one thing I often emphasize with my clients is the beautiful potential of the immeasurable. With digital campaigns you can measure some things, and of course whenever possible, I want to share data, but the reality is, there is also so much conversation that happens outside of clicks and likes—be it singularly in someone’s mind or via a chat with a friend. You can’t quantify these conversations in a wrap report and they matter tremendously.
On Substack, I focus on articulating stories and moments of impact and reflection of all sizes. I don’t filter or sugar coat my life because that is how I roll. And when I share an insight or reflection I often hit the publish button and think, “I hope this message reaches someone who needs to hear it.”
Most of the time I have no idea if that is the case, which I am good with, but every now and then a message comes in that reminds me how we can all impact one another simply by showing up and staying true to our voice.
"You create content that inspires me to be the best version of myself while not overlooking the wonderful person I already am. Thank you!" —8/2/2023 paid subscriber message
4. Writing has an incredible capacity to heal
At the time the below photo was taken (circa 1990 in the office of my high school newspaper) I was a person silently wrestling with a lot of pain. I grew up in a Korean patriarchal household—one of seven siblings, of which five of us were girls—with no voice in my family system. I had already been sexually harassed by a middle school teacher and a SAT prep teacher, incidents I carried alone until decades later. I also was about a year from entering a brutal three-year “relationship” in which I was controlled, abused, and threatened into silence, and stalked for over a decade following.
Beyond this adolescent/young adult history, soon after I started writing on Substack, my life entered a 6-month tailspin. I ended up processing some serious rage through my mantras series, and ultimately found healing and transformation, then liberation.
It’s not a stretch to think that one reason writing is so important to me is that it is an ever present reminder that despite what sometimes feels like an absurd amount of adversity—I only scratched the surface with the above examples—I am still standing and have a voice that I can exercise with strength and bravery and humor and light and humility whenever I choose.
5. Some kind of accountability system helps
Per my earlier note about the importance of a consistent writing practice, I do think some kind of accountability system helps. I am self-motivated and use Todoist to run my life so even the simple act of putting Substack essay writing on my recurring to-do list was enough for me to prioritize writing.
Accountability looks different for people. You might find that having a writing buddy or showing up to office hours (more on that next) will help.
6. Substack Office Hours are the mood boost I didn’t know I needed
A couple of weeks ago I dropped into Substack Office Hours for the first time to ask a question related to this one-year milestone. The first thing I was struck by was the unbounded positivity and support. Before I even got around to posting my question I found myself delighting in congratulating people on their milestones and bravery in trying something new. It was pure and beautiful.
So beautiful, in fact, that the following week I returned to Office Hours with the sole purpose of high five’ing people. Because I am a problem solver and also have been writing online since 2006, I also weighed in on threads where people asked for support and advice, be it dealing with trolls or social media algorithms. I loved the purity of giving and support—with no personal ask or agenda of my own—so much that I tossed a weekly reminder in Todoist to pop into Office Hours each week if I wasn’t in a meeting or on the road, even if just for 10 minutes, so I could issue a round of high fives and soak in the joy and support.
Regarding my Office Hours question: I was curious if the community had an idea for how to celebrate a one-year milestone. I shared the context that I have seen people offer discount subscriptions, but that as a Libra and Enneagram #1, this approach didn’t sit right with my sense of fairness for the people who have subscribed to my newsletter at the regular rate.
To my surprise—simply because there were so many threads popping—two people from the Substack team responded with thoughtfulness and kindness. First,
suggested focusing on reflection and gratitude, which is a current in so much of my writing but I hadn’t seen as a clear possibility, feeling like I needed to do something “special” on this anniversary. Second, heard my Libra/Enneagram #1 vibes loud and clear and suggested offering the gift of a comp extension to paid subscribers. If those two responses aren’t a beautiful and fitting example of the way one can show up and be seen and heard here on Substack, I’m not sure what is. Thank you, Katie and Bruno!And so, that gift I mentioned—way more than 2,200 characters ago: By the end of this week—with help desk documentation in hand,
even directed me to that!—I will add a complimentary month to extend the subscriptions of all paid subscribers. Thank you for supporting my creative work.Thank you, Substack, for providing the foundation on which people can find a home for their voice, the space to grow and heal and learn, and fine neighbors with which to connect. I am grateful to be here.
"I love your depth of reflection. Every time I read your posts, I'm grateful that you are on the planet, sharing your wisdom, creativity, perplexity, and solution-findings. Bravo!” —12/21/2023 paid subscriber message
The generosity in this piece is but a drop of what has come out of your entire body of work, and more than that, your presence and energy. I’ve always believed that the most valuable and radical thing we can do as online writers and creators is to be and show ourselves, not by oversharing , but with a spirit of interconnection. Congratulations on the year with much more to come. 💕
Congratulations! Thank you for these reflections, and for your incredibly kind and generous words. So looking forward to our conversation!