i don’t know HOW to write

I left substack on read like an overthinking boyfriend because I was too scared to commit.

I said before that I was a ‘bad writer,’ and boy have I lived and do fit into that description. I’ve been avoiding substack like it were an ex I’m not quite over. The kind you know you don’t have the energy for. You want more and both of you understand each other, but somehow fall out of line with wants and desires.

So, you leave.

Letting her decide what next.

But hoping she sends a text asking you to come back.

I scheduled my posts.

I wrote outlines.

I had moments of spark – like, “wow, my readers will love this!” And then I’d ghost my own ideas and posts. Scared that they’d ask more from me than I could give.

I had this impression on my writing that maybe if I’d write half as good as the writers on here do, then my work can be taken seriously, and people can actually pay me for the 2 minutes read that took me 2-3 business days to come up with.

I learned, studied, and practiced their writing style.

Heck, I don’t even write like this, but a certain level of familiarity with one particular writer on Substack, has made me to.

I found it intimidating. I’m not jealous, I’m just confessing. Okay, I was/am a bit jealous half the time.

You see a post in a month, two, a week or 2 days, attract many engagements and reads and yours over 5 months, seating there waiting for people to stumble upon.

Most at time it’s their high increase in subscribers that makes you want to ponder if really people are actually alive on Substack.

But you’re not ungrateful.

So, when you read a “write when no one reads,” you smile, and scroll…fully aware of the resent it quietly comes with. I kept saving posts – yours too if you’re reading this.

I kept saying “I’ll read this tomorrow!”

“Tonight,” “Right now.”

But never going back to check them. Restacked posts that only meant something to me.

Comment? Not today.

Yet I wanted the very acts I found impossible to contribute to, reciprocated.

Substack doesn’t work that way, so I subbed her dm. It’s not writers block – it’s something deeper, quieter. Heavier.

The intense feeling of going back to an ex after swearing you’d never text them back. That was me with Substack. I wanted more, but I was also drained while doing so. I want to share but can’t be liable to showing up each day.

And maybe that’s what commitment feels like –Not just showing up but meaning it when you do.

And I’ve been scared of that.

Looking inconsistent.

So, I left her on read.

I became jealous when she didn't respond anymore, but flowed well with others. I wanted growth, but at the same time, that felt like greed — I had become selfish.

But here’s what I learnt:

Avoiding something you care about doesn’t mean you stopped caring.

It just means you care too much and are scared of not doing it right.

So, don’t do nothing at all.

You put it on read.

Not because you’re done,

But because you’re still figuring out what to say back.

And that's okay.

Buy me a "coffee"