Pressing Pause
On paid subscriptions! For now!! I'm not going anywhere!!!
An email landed in my inbox this morning telling me my mom has a urology appointment coming up, which, of course, is not possible. No matter how far out I get, I am reminded steadily that I am still in the middle of this grief, and likely will be for a long time.
I didn’t cry when I got the appointment notification. I just emailed to say that my mom had passed, and I deleted it from my inbox. I did, however, cry writing to you about it now. I’ve spent so much of this year crying behind my keyboard, and I am thankful for that space with a fervor I can’t even put into words. I’ve needed to mine my own brain and pour myself out in that way, and I’ve needed to make some of that public when it felt right. If you’ve continued to read my newsletter since my mom passed away, I cannot thank you enough.
We’re going into the darkest days of the year, and I am finally admitting to myself that I don’t think there’s any version of this where I get my shit together while the pressure is on to get my shit together. I’m admitting to myself that I’ve put a lot of pressure on myself to get it together and keep it that way. I think it is impossible to hold that expectation of myself.
I am not sad all the time anymore, which feels like a Herculean lift, but I am also very much in it, and still the clock continues to tick. Time passes, and I get through it, steadily, steadily, steadily.
My work capacity has changed, and my drive to constantly remind people that I’m relevant so that they hire me has all but disappeared. That is all good and well, for now, actually. I know now that I need to stop putting my foot on the gas and instead just coast for a little bit. I am at a crossroads in my career, and that’s not a bad place to be. I can see the shape of the career I want, but it’s all fuzzy, and I need to take some time to figure out what it is.
I’m realizing more and more that what I need is a break.
Two years ago my mom paid for a yearly subscription to this very newsletter and it was one of the kindest gestures she’d ever extended to me. My mom was not the most tech-savvy person; she did not know what a Substack was or even really have a broad concept of what a newsletter was. She just believed in me and saw a place where she could put her money behind that belief in me, and she did it. She typed her credit card information in and left this note:
My mom’s influence on me is a huge reason I write and tell stories, and her support has meant the world to me. She was so proud of all my work, even the parts of it she didn’t fully understand.
It’s no surprise that I don’t know how to continue with all of this without her. What used to be a chill newsletter about feelings, pop culture, and books is now an outlet for me to write about my grief. I don’t hate it, but I don’t know the shape of it either.
For now, I’ve decided to pause paid subscriptions for this newsletter until the new year, specifically until after the date my mother’s credit card misses her yearly subscription renewal. It’s just something I need. I feel guilty when I don’t publish here because a contingent of you lovely humans support my work through paid subscriptions which I am so incredibly grateful for. Right now, what I need most is the freedom to write and publish as often as I’d like, even if that’s once every two weeks, or even once a month. Feeling like I owe two newsletters a week and continuing to feel like I’ve failed for not getting them out isn’t a sustainable way to keep up writing. This is not because anyone is putting any pressure on me; it’s just the pressure I’ve put on myself. This is me relieving that pressure valve.
I will continue to write and publish regularly, but I’m giving myself the space to not force it two times a week. I hope you understand.
Paid subscriptions will resume on January 2, 2025, and I will run another paid subscription drive once I have figured out the shape of this newsletter.
This is not a sad thing, far from it. We are not breaking up. You are not losing me from your inbox. Saying what I have to say here has been a vital part of the healing process, and I am so glad to be here.
When I spoke with a couple of fellow writers about turning off paid subs , they suggested that I leave an option in each newsletter for those who want to support my work still, even while I’m on a light publishing sabbatical for the next couple months, so in lieu of a paid subscription button upgrade at the end of each email, I will drop a link to my buy me a coffee page.
I appreciate your being here from the bottom of my heart. This space continues to mean the world to me and I look forward to what I publish next.
Thank you for reading! It means the world to me that you’d continue to extend the invite into your proverbial living room. The newsletter is my favorite place on the internet and I am consistently thrilled to learn that it means something to other people. If you want to support what I’m doing, here’s a little list of ways you can help out:
Give this post a like and leave a comment! Engagement helps Substack push this newsletter out to other people who might love it.
Send me a message and just say hi :)
Forward this email to a few friends who would enjoy it.
Buy me a coffee but only if you want to ❤️
I'm always thankful for how much of yourself you share. You're a light (even when you don't feel particularly bright), and I'm glad you're able to take the break you need. 💕