I’m halfway through a flight from LA to Austin, in the middle seat, sandwiched between two men. Last to board this full flight, I had to check my carry-on bag. I’ve got a sparkling water and red wine on my tray. I don’t have flight anxiety but there’s been a lot of turbulence, more than usual. I just finished my dinner—a bag of Chex Mix—because we were late to the airport and had to run to make our flight. I think the man next to me just farted.
Maybe it’s the stench making me loopy, or maybe it’s the wine. Either way, I felt compelled to write.
Do I hate Substack?
It feels like a loaded question, with different potential answers depending on whether I’m thinking as a user or a creator.
As a user, I don’t like emails. In fact, my red unread notification bubble says 18,684. That feels like a lot, I may not have a large substack following but I do have a large unread email following.
somehow life goes on.
It’s hard for me to imagine signing up for multiple newsletters that arrive as emails, especially when my inbox is already overflowing with spam, Amazon order confirmations, meeting reminders, and other clutter. But what do I know? I’m someone with 18 thousand unread emails.
On the creator side, I’ve tried to make this space my own. I’ve brought the messiness, playful energy, deep thoughts, the occasional recipe. But I can’t shake this overwhelming pressure, the frustration…the fear? I know this platform works for recipe developers. I’ve heard how it’s given them autonomy, financial safety, so much opportunity. But for me, it’s just felt—well—like I’m stuck in the middle seat of a plane next to a farting man.
It’s not so bad, just not exactly where I would choose to spend my time.
I think what makes this decision hardest is that I hate disappointing people. Especially you—the ones who have been so kind, so supportive, who have shown up here to read my words when I wasn’t even sure I had anything worth saying. I want to be all the things, everything, everywhere, all at once—but the truth is, I can’t. Not well, at least. Not in a way that feels good, sustainable, or true to me. And I don’t want to keep forcing myself into spaces that don’t fit, just because I feel like I should.
It’s kind of funny—I talk about this in my cookbook. (I guess this is my last-ditch effort to get you to preorder it!!!) I started this whole crazy career journey as a blogger—a failed one at that—but that failed blog is what led me to take a gap year, move to Sweden, work as a food stylist, and ultimately land my internship at Tasty. How can so many successes stem from such a failure? Well, I guess it’s because the only real failure is the failure to launch. We can add Substack to that list of failures (that were never only failures) I’m excited to see what successes stem from this one. But it’s time to make space for the next thing.
I know enough about energetics to know that even just the reality of this platform for me, looming like a monster in the corner, is taking up space for something else that supposed to be there. Even if that something is just peace of mind.
No matter how hard you try, you can’t fit a square peg into a round hole. What works for someone else may not/does not/will not work for me. And the more I try to force it, the more I realize: there are other ways I’m better at showing up and creating. Ways that light me up and don’t feel so dang hard.
And yes we can do hard things but we can also walk away from wrong things!!!
This isn’t about quitting—it’s about redirecting.
It’s hard to stay in your lane when you see so many other cars moving faster. But my lane is mine. And to get to where I’m meant to go, I gotta put the blinders on and trust my inner guidance.
I do have other ways of showing up—ways that feel more me. And if I’m not naturally drawn to writing newsletters, that’s okay. Maybe my words are meant to live in a different format. In videos, in person, in a cookbook, on a show. The possibilities are endless but my path is unique.
Letting go isn’t failure. It’s making room for what actually fits. And maybe, just maybe, it’s about trusting that my lane, even if it’s moving at a different pace, is leading exactly where I’m meant to go.
So, maybe this is my last Substack post. Maybe not. Clearly, this is not a weekly newsletter but maybe it is a when I feel really inspired one or when I’m stuck in a middle seat of a plane next to a farting man one. Either way, I know this much—somehow, life goes on.
I’d be bummed if you stopped posting butttttt your followers will follow you in any platform you are on so wherever your lane drives we will follow! Do you girl!