I'm a Substack girlie now.

And it feels right.

This letter’s soundtrack:

Well hey, guys. It’s me—Emma. Ya know, I’ve been at *this* for a while (*this* being the internet and newsletters and the like), and every so often, I like to change things up. Example: I started my blog on blogger, which I’m pretty positive is no longer in existence. Then, I moved to WordPress for years. Then, came Squarespace. It’s good to move platforms every now and again, I think. Keeps your online tech skills on their toes.

With newsletters, I started on MailChimp, made the switch to FloDesk last year, and decided just today that it was time to pack my shit up and move to Substack. I’ve been inspired by the Substacks I’m subscribed to (namely, The Free Press and The Grand Weekly). After all, it’s the newsletter platform that has an infinite amount of room to write, and that’s something I plan to get back into this year—

WRITING TO WRITE.

This isn’t too much of a stretch from what I’ve been doing over on FloDesk the last year or so. My newsletters, which used to be extremely colorful and full of visual aides, became more word-heavy and full of hyperlinks rather than pictures, and Substack is a much better format for exactly that. So here we are. Welcome to my newsletter’s new home! Let’s get into it.

Jealousy.

It’s the thief of joy, I know. But even when you spend your day-to-day with blinders on like I do, sometimes one of those blinders gets stuck and you’re flat on your back with your eyes wide open, baring witness to all the amazing things happening to your peers that aren’t happening to you and you… react.

Let me back up. Because 2022 was the year I got married, that’s all I thought about. I ate, drank, slept, and breathed in wedding. 75% of my brain was hijacked with wedding, and the other 25% was showing up for my retainer clients, doing some EMMASTHING stuff, and remembering to shower. Now with that all-encompassing distraction done and dusted and put away safely in a garment bag, I am back in the game in a big way. I have plans this year, guys. Big plans. So many ideas. So many things I want to accomplish and see through because I finally have my full brain space back (okay, like 90%. Gotta reserve that 10% for remembering to shower because it truly is an issue).

I started 2023 off with so much gusto. The first week and a half, I was on a creative high. I finally cracked open a book I’ve been meaning to read forever, Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. It’s a book about how to write a book, and it’s been sitting on my bookshelf for a good year or more. I am ready to sit down and start writing chapters this year, and nothing says good intentions like reading a book about how to do that, right?

Then, I had my first contributing article for another publication in years go live on Women’s Health.

Then, I had a meeting with my podcast editor who believes in me more than my mom, sister, and husband combined, if that’s possible. She had so many ideas, and wasn’t batting an eyelash of doubt that I can and will accomplish all of it. She wants paid ads, she wants bigger guests, and she for whatever reason truly believes my tiny, puny podcast can do that, and she almost made me believe it can, too.

Then! I signed on a new client! 13 days into the new year, I got a HUGE job for February that will probably most likely evolve into another retainer client for my business.

But at the same time all of this was happening, my blinders glitched for the first time in a long time, and I was hearing and seeing how all my peers are doing so much more than me. They’re getting book deals or at least having meetings with publishers and editors. Their creative endeavors are taking off and their audiences are growing daily. They are miles ahead of me in so many ways, and that’s because they’re so much better than me. They’re nicer. They’re more palatable. They know more people who are the right people. They appeal to the masses like a chocolate chip cookie, whereas I am a lemon ricotta cookie that only select few will choose over a standard CCC. I am no one and nothing. Where the fuck do I get off thinking anyone would want to read a BOOK I write? Better yet, that it would even SELL? My podcast editor thinks my show, that barely averages 1k listens an episode, is worthy of ads and almost-famous guests? She’s insane. I’m insane.

What the fuck am I even doing?

As swept up as I was in this tornado of imposter syndrome, jealousy, and self doubt, I happened to turn the page on the book I’m reading and open to a chapter called “Jealousy.”

Jealousy is such a direct attack on whatever measure of confidence you’ve been able to muster. But if you continue to write, you are probably going to have deal with it… You are going to feel awful beyond words. You are going to have a number of days in a row where you hate everyone and don’t believe in anything…Jealousy is one of the occupational hazards of being a writer, and the most degrading. And I… have come to believe that the only things that help ease or transform it are (a) getting older, (b) talking about it until the fever breaks, and (c) using it as material. Also, someone somewhere along the line is going to be able to make you start laughing about it, and then you will be on your way home.

So, here I am. Using the intense jealousy I felt this week as material via this newsletter. I’m still working through it—"it" being that gnawing feeling to completely give into my self doubt and throw the towel in forever while I sit back and watch as my peers succeed in ways I never will. But I won’t. Not today. Probably not tomorrow either. I’m just having a moment that I haven’t had for a while since I’ve been securely wrapped up in a love bubble. The bubble hasn’t burst by any means; I’m just a bit dusty on, ya know, my ambitions and, in revving them back up, had forgotten how easy it is to play the comparison game. It’s a bitch.

Are you ready for the weekend now after having read all that? You’re welcome. One of my favorite things about switching to Substack is that subscribers can like and comment on newsletters, which gives me another way to interact with you guys on a deeper, more personal level, so hit it with a heart, leave a comment, and have a great weekend.