(Nearly) a Milestone
On reaching (almost) two thousand subscribers
I took the above photo in the same week I started writing this newsletter, in December of 2020.
Back then it was called Gathering. The newsletter was a refuge for me; a leap of faith. I was working full-time as a nanny in Seattle, feeling quite lost. Not like a writer at all. Living in the same city where I’d grown up, been homeless. The same city where my mom had died by suicide. Everywhere I turned there was some memory confronting me, all of the things I’d tried to move away from.
During the past three and a half years I’ve changed the name of this newsletter several times, gone on several breaks, contemplated shutting the newsletter down. At one point I convinced myself that this could be a viable income for me. It’s not, but it is supplemental. I have 33 paying subscribers. Many Substackers with much larger readerships wouldn’t blink at 33 paying subscribers, but I am grateful for every single one of you, paying or not. It’s okay that I don’t make my living with this newsletter. It does give me life sometimes.
I’m not good at commitment. This is partially because of my neurodivergent brain. I have always had a push/pull relationship with routine and habit— as an autistic person I thrive with routine; as someone with ADHD I have terrible time sticking to routines. But I have stuck with this. And many of you have stuck with me. Many of you have been here since the beginning.
Some of you got here through Jessica DeFino’s newsletter, The Unpublishable. Without Jess recommending my newsletter I’m not sure I’d have so many subscribers, and that’s a testament to the power of Substack recommendations.
However long you’ve been here, however you got here, whether you pay for a subscription or not, I am grateful to you, and honored that you find something worthwhile and resonant in my writing.
David Foster Wallace said, “The very best works [of writing] construct a bridge across that abyss of human loneliness.” That has always been my aspiration as a writer— to construct that bridge, both to my readers and to myself, to a deeper understanding of the interior and exterior worlds, if there is really a difference between the two.
Beginning this newsletter was, in many ways, a message to myself. A commitment to my writer’s life. Less than a year after its inception I left nannying and started freelancing. Now I’m here in a PhD program, studying literature and nonfiction. My book is coming out next year.
In the next year, I’d love to have more subscribers. Not because I want more money (although of course I do, I’m on a PhD stipend), but because every single reader who engages with my work brings something with them here. A whole life. A depth of understanding. You, my readers, help me see my work in new ways. I am so grateful for you.
By this time next year, my book will be coming out.
So, I’m taking a moment. It’s a new moon. It’s a time for reflection and planting seeds. I’m taking a moment to say: I am here, and I want to keep writing, and I want to be seen, and I want to see. I am here for it all.
I loved finding you! I always feel uplifted by someone else’s open heart. Thanks for bringing yours here.
🤎