Getting Cancelled Changed My Life for the Better.
My 1-year retrospective on Substack
It’s been one year since I started writing on Substack. I’d like to take a moment to reflect on my journey—how I arrived here, and how far I have come—with those who have supported me along the way.
…
On April 27, 2023, I awakened to see that my Instagram page had been suspended.
The night before, I had stepped out of line by amplifying the stories of de-transitioned black lesbians. I had posted a few videos by these women in an effort to uplift voices that were not being heard in the broader discussion about gender ideology. By the time I went to sleep, my work had begun to circulate and provoke discussion. By the time I woke up, everything was gone.
Overnight, 8 years of meticulous digital curation as a pole dance artist, writer, visual artist, and authentic outpourings of my humanity had been permanently erased. I was instantly disconnected from thousands of followers. They did not even bother to pack my things into a box and hand it to me so that I could keep the mementos and fruits of my labor. They just destroyed it.
In addition to this, all the other accounts I’d ever created under the Meta brand had been affected, including my personal Facebook page, my 13 year old business page for my documentary film, and the Instagram page for my Haus of Isis women’s wellness brand. I had not been speaking about gender-critical issues on any of these pages, but I was locked out, nonetheless.
Instinctively, I opened a Substack account, and wrote my first post.
I had known about Substack for about 2 months by that time. I didn’t know very much about it, but I knew it would be welcoming to voices like mine. I had learned about it by way of WDI’s Black Women’s Caucus founder, Lorraine Nowlin. I thought, if she can speak freely on here, then so can I.
I salvaged a few of my gender-critical Instagram posts that I originally designed in Canva, and formatted them to be reposted here. Then, I emailed the handful of women in my Sapphic Women of Color group and told them what happened. I posted a video on Youtube explaining that I’ve been cancelled, and I asked my long-time supporters to follow me too.
So began my journey as a Writer and Creative on this platform.
I began writing, the way I know how to write. The way my soul felt called to write…
It was the way I had been writing on social media all this time, but Substack offered me more space. More options. More ways to naturally offer my readers a way to sustainably support me for being who I am, and doing the work that I do.
I was no longer cramped into Instagram’s little story box—where I used to pack my big thoughts and experiences into a tiny slide show. I no longer had a word limit, or the risk of shadow banning.
And I feel safe here.
Substack feels like a safe space for me to truly express myself, without being policed or punished for it. As someone who has always colored outside of the lines, this is incredibly valuable to me.
Some people who have followed my work may already know this, but Substack is not my first merry-go-round with blogging.
I started a Youtube channel in 2008, to speak my mind about philosophical and social issues that lit a fire in my heart. I later expanded my channel into a space where I could open up more vulnerably about my life and personal journey.
I grew and nurtured that channel for 7 years, with my most active years from 2008-2015.
I also hosted other blogs on Tumblr and Wordpress from 2014-2016. Then I started my Instagram page, where I was micro-blogging for years, alongside my self-designed Artist website, where I occasionally posted long-form pieces.
So, I have been doing this for my entire adult life.
And during most of this time, I never even thought about money.
For me, blogging was freedom.
It was my expression and expansion space, and it still is.
I would say that my experience as a digital Writer and Media Maker has played a key role in raising me up as a Woman. It has helped me hone my authentic voice, and learn who I am in reflection with others. It has drawn me closer to my tribe.
As I’ve walked through life, I realized that I don’t fit very well into boxes. Going the conventional route for most things, just never worked out for me.
It wasn’t my fault. It’s like God spat me out of situations that weren’t meant for me.
I realized that being who I am in this world requires me to carve out my own lane.
I knew that preserving my freedom to be the powerful voice that I am requires me to earn a living from my gifts.
Slowly, over time, I have had to figure out ways to ensure that the creative work I invest in is built to sustain me in a harmonious way—in a way that is aligned with my values and spirit.
Substack has met me where I am. And so have many of my paid subscribers who generously pour back into me, as much as I pour into my work.
It has not always been easy for me, here. I have had my ups and downs.
There was a time at the beginning of this year when I was on the verge of quitting. I had a 45 minute goodbye video that I was ready to post, and everything.
I looked around and did not see anyone quite like me, doing what I was doing, and I felt like there was nowhere I truly fit. I did not know how I would rebuild my audience, with no social media.
I was struggling so deeply in life, and I needed solutions. I worried that the cost of challenging the status quo and being true to myself was not worth it. I thought, maybe I should try to blend in to survive. Maybe I should quit. All I saw was a long, dark tunnel with no light at the end of it.
Outside of Substack, I was going through a lot in my personal life—which I have written about in-depth on this platform. In retrospect, that darkness was truly at the core of my discouragement.
Then I woke up the next morning, and I said to myself: “But what about that essay you want to do about Pauli Murray?”
And what about those responses you want to do to your old YouTube videos?
And what about those books you want to write? And the interviews you wanted to do?
And what about the stories you have to tell?
And what about….me?
Where will I write for me?
And just like that…I decided to continue. And I am so, so grateful I did. Because every inch of that push-through has been worth it.
I did publish my essay on Pauli Murray. I did tell my stories.
After a year of growing at a snail’s pace, I have nearly tripled my subscriber count in the past 6 weeks. I have collaborated with individuals and platforms that I have admired for months and years.
I have discovered and implemented a way to build my audience in a way that feels sustainable, attainable, and aligned with my values…all without having to maintain a presence on Big Tech social media.
And my name and essay is now cited on Pauli Murray’s Wikipedia page.
I don’t know where my path is leading me, but I know that I am on the right one.
For those who appreciate my holistic presence, and for those who support me in the ways you are able—just know that I love, see, and appreciate all of you.
There is still so much more to come…
And I am grateful that you are coming along with me for the ride.
Thank yew.
🌺
I am so glad that you haven't given up and instead continue on Substack. It is so cruel and horrible and female-hating and racist how Instagram treated you, tried to erase you and take away your work. I wish there was justice. But Substack does seem a wonderful way to continue. I have two blogs on Wordpress, including almost the entire book I co-wrote, but it's terrifying to know what they have done to other women that they could do to us at any time.
A dear friend who uses the name Gallus Mag did an incredible blog at Wordpress for about 8 years, called GenderTrender. She was one of the first who courageously wrote against the trans cult, in spite of the death threats they sent her and are still sending. Then, one white man, who had sued immigrant Women of Color for saying no to waxing his testicles in a women's salon, also went after Gallus and got her work of so many years shut down. No warning, so she lost it all. No record of those years, her work, and the many women who wrote in and commented. I think she has quit and it's a huge loss for us all, as is your work being removed.
But you're continuing! It was Eva Kurilova who told me about Substack and interviewed me to counter the disgusting slander that the man who has stalked me since I was 17 got printed by another man posing as a Lesbian (or bisexual, when it suits them) in what used to be a Lesbian journal, Sinister Wisdom. Eva was so kind and wonderful to work with, and it was a relief that that man (who is openly racist and also preys on young women) did not get final say in his nasty lies about me, though SW will not print my response there of course.
I really should put all my work on Substack but everything seems so overwhelming so I haven't. But it's wonderful to know you are there and not stopped, and other women will be writing there too!
Your writing is both personal and political at the same time, and that's a real gift. I'm also happy that you didn't give up because your voice matters and you have a lot to contribute to the discussion we're having, or should be having.
Marx wrote that an individual can only become fully human in the context of a relationship with another person, through that person. Part of that is the experience of being 'seen' by, and 'seeing', the other at the same time. It's the beautiful, loving, compassionate, and authentic process of mutual authentication, and ideally it happens in all of our significant relationships.
Cancellation is the opposite of this enlightening, connective experience. It's an act of obliteration, to make you disappear and to stop you from being seen. That's why we fear it, and why it hurts. It's dehumanising. And that's why they do it. They want to dehumanise us, erase our humanity, because our thoughts differ from theirs, because we have a different way of seeing things.
All forms of expression--academic and non-academic writing, art, music, blogging, etc.--are ways of making ourselves vulnerable to the gaze of the other, with the hope that the other will authenticate that expression and ultimately, our humanity. We are social beings, and the woke strike at the very core of who we are as a species. They are ruthless, cruel, and inhumane...all with that arrogant smirk they all wear when they're 'enlightening' us with their wisdom.
I can't go into it now (because I need to think this through more carefully) but I want to mention that cancellation is extremely dangerous to society. It legitimises the act of closing off your humanity to another, which is at the root of totalitarian societies. If the woke continue ravaging our social norms and reinforcing cruelty as a valid form of dealing with disagreement, this dynamic will spread to other areas of society and move us toward a crueler, heartless world. And they have the audacity to call themselves the Left, or Socialists, when every fiber of their being has absolutely no connection to these ways of thinking or living.
Keep up the great work, Nevlynne, you're a beautiful soul.