substack essays that helped me stay on substack

because i'm feeling some kind of platform migratory urge

Listening to: light my love by greta van fleet

cutie anyway

i’ve been noticing more profoundly my need to leave this digital space. It happens every half a decade or so, when I feel I have to get away from a social platform, go to another site or app, check the terrain, and hide my activities until I fully settle and become ready to share. It happened to me on friendster (the OGs know). it happened on myspace, on Tumblr, blogspot and Wordpress. First months to a year felt great, then more people kept coming into these social media spaces. These spaces eventually became an overloaded cesspool of the mundane. I would feel the exhaustion and addiction of staying online. Personally, "chronically online" is nothing at all if it meant I would be able to absorb great knowledge. But trivial nothings kept getting shoved onto my face. Eventually I would pack up my imaginary backpack, fetch my imaginary walking stick, and venture out to find another domain less known.

I got to know substack because a friend of mine uses it to review songs, albums and discographies. He posted a review on his ig stories. I checked out his stuff (because he's a fab writer) and found myself liking the website. at that time, I was in my Wordpress era trying to vacate the premises because the free version only allowed up to 3gb of free photo uploads. And to me, the creative language of blogging needed unlimited uploads for images. I remember checking out Medium as well but ultimately, I went to substack for four reasons: my friend was already there; its best feature to me is the newsletter, sending my posts and writings via email should I wish; it advertises itself a "platform for writers," and (most important for me), I can use substack as a blog blog.

Because blogging is why I choose to stay on these kinds of platforms. The premise of writing relatively long-form posts, personal, reflective, adding and arranging photos, links, and YouTube clips to enhance the narrative, with the ability to let loose, to cut oneself from rigid grammatical soundness and bend the theories of literary techniques– that's what I really want. In the words of my poet friend, "blogging is meant to be raw." substack for some odd reason rarely advertises itself as a blog. but I believe it belongs in the realm of the blogosphere (<-- bet you haven't heard that word in a while).

so substack began for me, January of 2022. And it was kind of great. A lot of good reads, a lot of good people writing their hearts out, observing the world, letting out their feelings and fighting the good fight. And I wanted in. I wanted to be amongst these good people. I got to have a friend here and found the comments, confessing how much they relate to what they have read, very endearing. Beautiful months and years.

Like so many of us here, i witnessed the site progress further and further but maybe not in the way we would like. The feed became suddenly more pronounced and in-your-face. The chat was introduced. There were now notes and "tweets" and the essays, to me the blood of substack, shrank to a thumbnail. The writers I admired posted more and more of these "tweets," confessing their writing progress. They wrote their processes and activities using the notes more than their actual essays and drafts. I found myself lost in the community that I initially went to for my writing comfort. I began to distance myself from it thinking, "I really thought this was the last one. Should I take a hike again?"

My hiatuses becoming longer than originally intended. Or was I masking my letdown for a hiatus? I confessed my sadness towards my friend to which he responded that he found substack draining as of late. "started out nice," he said and "is now full of crap that I have to wade through in order to read the few things I find useful on it." I shared my thoughts to another friend to which she replied, "I hear you. I’m committed to the end of the year. Then I’m done."

Of course, there's no such thing as an original thought anymore. When I have thought of something I'm sure that thousands of other people in the world have thought of the exact same thing. After a few days of ruminating, I messaged that second friend. I told her that maybe I'll try staying on substack just a bit longer. Maybe I was just whining. She gave a startling response: "It’s just weird finding yourself feeling pressured to do something that doesn’t feel good." Well that got me thinking!

I thought about it constantly. Was I really feeling pressured? despite my confession, would I really call substack something that doesn't feel good anymore? i mean, I keep coming back; there must still be some good in it? was I sad that I was no longer contributing? In times like these, it's best for me to keep my journal in my bag, near me at all times, in case I needed to pour things out suddenly. but just as helpful as journaling, i found something else that sort of, kind of, saved me from leaving substack for now.

What's frustrating about substack is that the good essays are hard to find in the site itself. The tiny tabs category on different topics... when you click them, what appears are notes, photos and tiny daily log-ins of affirmations, quotes, not much else. A different source came to my attention that's now my go-to for good substack essays: TikTok! Just a few days ago my algorithm flooded me with content saying "things I read instead of doomscrolling" and they were titles of articles and essays all written here.

Without further ado, here are some of the substack essays that prevented me from leaving:

how to avoid half-heartedness

The epidemic of constant communication

#7: I am a lazy person, but I still get things done

soft ambition

womanhood is the process of understanding your mother

Privacy is so sexy.

things i notice when i'm not rushing

your perfectionism will not save you.

Banana Leaves, Submission Anxiety & a Plastic Chair

Fascism thrives on women's self-doubt

All powerful words and messages. All powerful effects on me. individual writers with distinct voices. They reminded me in a fantastic fashion why I came here in the first place. I’ve read them, rereading some of them. it’s fun to be reminded that, just as they contributed to my well-being, my writing might also benefit someone else out there.

so there we go. might stay for now because of these inspirations. also, i have commitments to myself that i need to face and do. i’ll fine tune this little space of mine. i’m also aware that there maybe some kind of mental-ADHD-OCD kinda vibe going on in me. and i know for sure for a writer to clear their mind, continuous creativity is key.

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