No One is Coming For You

On looking yourself dead in the eyes and choosing to be seen.

Every so often, we have an awakening.

For me, a lot of these awakenings are reintroductions to things I already know but haven’t felt deeply—at least not for a while.

These awakenings are truths like, “If you want something different, you have to do something different”.

The difference is that instead of smiling at this quote on a sticky note, there’s suddenly oomph behind it.

With an awakening, passive concepts become unignorable realizations.

They grab our attention and lock eyes.

Visually, I see these moments as wandering down our street and noticing a gate for the first time.

We must’ve walked by it a million times, but today the sunlight is hitting it just so.

We decide, “What the hell”, and creak the door open.

Stuffing ourselves through the passageway, we arrive on the other side to find a beautiful garden.

There are people there, conversing on bistro chairs and sipping espresso like Parisians.

“Was this here all along? How did we not notice it before?”

This bountiful place that will feed us was hiding in plain sight.

We just weren’t ready to see it.

This happened to me this week.

This revelation is a truth I’ve known. Hell, it’s something I’ve even written about encouragingly.

However, until now, I hadn’t fully experienced it.

It’s the realization that if we don’t make it happen, like actually try, it’s never gonna happen.

Before you say, “duh?”, understand that I know this. I have known this.

But something happened where I remet this truth, looked her dead in the eyes, and saw the ghost of myself living small.

This awakening happened on Substack.

I was basking in the afterglow of publishing my post, Creation Before Clarity, when I clicked the “notes” feature.

I was scrolling along, minding my own business, when I came across an alarming trend.

Countless new-to-the-platform writers were thanking the community for the 500, 1,000 or 10,000 subscribers they received in their first month.

I clicked back to my own profile.

139 subscribers.

139 subscribers in 3 years and 79 posts.

I had an out-of-body and reencountered my abysmal subscriber count.

Note: To my dear 139 subscribers, I mean no offence when I call the readership (that you’ve generously participated in) “abysmal”. Many of you have been here since the beginning and without your support, I wouldn’t have kept chugging along. I am grateful (beyond words) for the support. Truly. Madly. Deeply. But…

139.

At first, I was pissed.

Who are all these nepo baby writers with their grandpappies controlling the algorithm?

Then, I was ashamed.

How could I have squandered years of writing that I felt proud of by never *really* trying to make it visible?

Irresponsibly, I always assumed that success would find me.

In a way that’s too young for my years, I thought I’d be rewarded for showing up and doing good, sporadic work.

Despite being a marketer by trade, I’ve treated my work with careless whimsy.

I’ve been operating with a dated, likely Canadian, outlook that to promote thyself is uncouth, taboo, and high-key embarrassing.

So, like a leather jacket-wearing teen in the school’s smoker pit, I’ve maintained a deep aversion to showing I care.

I’ve believed that if my writing is good enough, people would simply come.

Well, guess what?

Barring my beloved 139, the people haven’t come. And unless I behave differently, they aren’t gonna.

For something that matters to me, I’ve been grossly flippant, stubborn, and unaccountable.

And only after reflecting on the ‘Fateful Scroll of 26’’ did I realize I wasn’t acting in a way that matched my intent.

I want my writing to reach people.

I want to see this thing grow.

And so, I arrived here: I want these things more than my disdain for self-promotion.

In today’s world, creative work remains unseen without the machine.

If I want a life where I get to be creative and successful, I have to actively participate and *deep breath*, show that I care by towing it across the line.

I can’t afford to be “cool” about my work.

To get what we want, we must do everything in our power to make it happen.

This means addressing our limiting behaviours when an awakening reveals herself.

But we can only see it when we’re ready.

If we don’t want to go for it, and I mean try in a way that any self-respecting “cool girl” feels is, “Hide your Ma, hide your Pa, block your friends” cringy, I get it.

I’ve spent most of my adult life standing with you, waiting for “talent” and under-the-radar efforts to carry me into my best life.

But the truth from behind the gate is this: no one is coming for you.

Only you can come for you.