There will always be projects, ideas, and opportunities when you have permission to express what calls to you. The world is open to exploring when we hold everything lightly, especially when we are misunderstood.
In October, I received an Instagram message from someone “concerned about my well-being.” It was a word salad accusing me of secret Ozempic use, unchecked privilege, and making people feel bad about themselves. To summarize, they thought my new content was disappointing. Message received.
Historically, these types of messages have made me spiral. When I read that message in October, I waited for the familiar feeling to arise, but it did not come. The need to defend myself was curiously absent. Was I having a stroke? Or was I stuck in a weird lucid dream?
I’ve been splashing my ideas, thoughts, and images around the internet for fifteen years. While Substack feels like the safest space available for unpolished personal storytelling, it’s still been particularly cringe-worthy for me—the past year or so especially—partially because I’ve allowed myself to be openly struggling and often changing my mind from week to week. I’ve written from the parts of myself that are deeply insecure, misunderstood, and undeveloped—then hit publish.
Each time has felt terrifying. But when has it ever not been scary to say what you mean? It’s supposed to be scary. As I’ve welcomed this fear as part of my life, it’s become easier to be misunderstood.