always an angel, never a god
on discipline, numbers and ephemeral things + march RECAP
sometimes i worry i’ll never be successful. whatever success means in the grand scheme of things. how do we even measure success? is it by numbers? or is it when we get our colleagues recognition? maybe it’s a combination of both.
i wouldn’t know because neither the numbers nor the compliments have a long-lasting effect on me.
most of my substack notifications by email are deactivated. i don’t have the app downloaded on my phone. i don’t constantly check my number of subscribers nor the likes and comments on my posts. but when i do, my mind goes blank. shock comes first, followed by a small rush in my blood that goes right to my brain. then dread creeps in.
every time i write something, i’m worried it’s the last thing i’ll write. i constantly feel like my creativity has an expiration date, and with every new piece written, i get closer to the day all of my talent, if i even have it, goes away.
a few months ago, one of my old posts started getting new traction. it was from the time when i had maybe 100 subscribers, maybe less. in it i talked about how i wanted to be all these different types of people and how overwhelmed i felt by my options. i’ve done lots of growing since then.
I want to do everything, so I do nothing
Five tabs sit open in my browser: an article from The New Yorker, an episode of Superstore, a video essay on YouTube about the resurgence of trad wives, a PDF I have to summarize, and a draft for my …
everyday i wake up to new comments of people saying how much they needed this essay, how understood they felt by me, and thanking me for putting their feelings into words. it makes me feel less worried about success. at least i have this. now it’s all that matters. who knows what tomorrow will bring?
i re read this piece the other day, and a sense of pride filled me. not because of the comments and likes it’s gained in the last couple of months, but because now i see all the things i could be and don’t feel scared. instead, i feel elated that i get to choose any path i want. i’m excited about the future. i’m grateful for the gift of growing old and gaining knowledge.
every new lesson acquired by age and experiences i collect like bracelet charms. sometimes i forget i own them and leave them to collect dust on my drawers. but when i do remember, i wear them proudly on my wrist.
believe me when i say this: i am grateful that all the time i have put into this publication is paying off. i am grateful for the people sparing a couple of pounds, dollars, and euros to become paid subscribers. i can’t even explain what it means to me. but as the numbers grow, the expectations do too.
i don’t know if i have what it takes to get to that place. somewhere, anywhere there is for writers to get to. and what if that place moves with time? what if every time i reach a stepping stone, another one appears, and i have to keep climbing my entire life?