Welcome to my Substack

Or, why I left social media for something mildly more creative and far less demonic

If this isn’t a perfect example of internet garbage I don’t know what is. But then again, I am using it…

In 2017 I started having nightmares that the recently elected cheeto-in-charge was my father. There also was something about him being a good basketball player? None of it made sense, but it was stressful enough that I brought the ordeal up to my therapist.

My therapist was a conservative, Christian, gun-owning woman that made questionable jokes. My friends always looked at me with concern when they learned those things about her. Despite these traits, she was also funny, fierce, tenacious, and loving. It was therapeutic for me to be cared for by someone whose politics and beliefs I disagreed that I knew cared for me in return. She was also the best therapist I’d ever had — I grew because she challenged me, not agreed with me.

“Where is the fear coming from?” she asked.

I could feel my insides start burning, that question started shoveling the coals into my anxiety furnace. Where to begin! Look at all the things he says! The things he’s doing!

She stopped me pretty quickly.

“He doesn’t live here though,” she said. “He’s on the other side of the country, thousands of miles away. He’s not actively doing anything directly to you.”

I felt like a child. “But! But!…”

“Where is the fear coming from?” she asked again.

“I guess… from the news…” I said.

“What news?”

“Like… the stuff I see on Instagram. The headlines, and the pictures, and the content. It’s all so scary, seeing what’s happening. I feel helpless.”

She gave me one of her famous looks, a look that said both ‘you’re being an idiot, there’s an obvious solution here’ and also ‘I can tell it hurts’.

My therapist didn’t try to argue the merits of her politics or tell me that 45 wasn’t a problem. She showed me that being in that much fear was unproductive, unhelpful, and that I didn’t need it.

I quit Instagram for two years, and Facebook for good.

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When I left social media in 2017, I made a big to-do about why I was leaving and what I would miss. And here I am again, 7 years later, doing essentially the exact same thing. I’m turning off the fear tap. The billionaires at Meta are losing my participation. I am starving the algorithm. Will it make a difference to them? Probably not. Will it make a difference to me? Absolutely.

I’m on the hunt for ways to make things in my life a little better- how can I connect with people while also making it more intentional instead of mindless? This is my current solution: weekly updates in the form of short essays and other thoughts.

I’d been following N.D. Stevenson’s “I’m Fine I’m Fine Just Understand” and Molly Knox Ostertag’s “in the telling” for a couple years, and was always excited to see an update come into my inbox. But those two are accomplished creatives! I have their graphic novels on my shelves at home! Substack must surely be for people in a creative industry making money, right?

Then I made friends with a pal from the local board game club I go to, and lo and behold Hale also writes a weekly Substack called Enter the Liquefold! It’s been so rich to be able to get a look into Hale’s mind and life and then be able to talk with Hale about it the next time we’re together.

My hope for this project is that:

1. I write more

2. My friends feel connected to how I’m doing and what I care about

3. What I write creates opportunities for deeper connection

So far I’m already winning at number 1.

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The above-referenced Substacks I enjoy:

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Thanks for reading :)